You are my life: there’s no divide
Hard words could cause or temper bring
I love you more than being or thing
On earth was ever loved: inside
The soil of every angry scene
A new seed sends shoots, fresh and green
Good year, 1996
I love the times you call me a cunt
Though some might think it an affront
But I still bliss in knowing this...
The treasures of time are loaded on my back
What a welcome burden! Memories alone
Would be a lottery win...