Love is air. Lovelessness is the drowning after. I float now in that water. Were I suspended in sweet air, you would see the roses in my cheeks and the clover in my souls. But as you peer past the surface of my rippled sky, your eyes will ungrey a ghost of my former self, my envenomed pallor surrounding twin pools of striking loss. I once survived flowing in calm featurelessness, gilded waves lighting my arms and legs. Then I saw my unveiled siren, my legend reaching down to me with outstretched longing hopeful fingers. She lifted me up toward a dream passed into me as from a breath. And as she exhaled I was alone upon her rocks where I dragged for a year. Broken, I slowly dipped down to the cold comforting shroud of foggy darkness which welcomed me once again.