I felt the cadence of your voice run through my veins
Whilst reading your letters
I thought that it was so romantic that you still wrote them, after all these years
I remember the very first one.
It was a decade ago
And you wrote me a sonnet of sorts
That betrayed the love you were trying to hide from me
My only regret is that I never wrote back
And all I have is this, and a single rose to leave at your tomb.