There is sorrow in the black of your eyes, my love. But in the green that surrounds that black, I see tenderness.
There is sadness in the whiteness of your skin, my sweet. But in its white silkiness I find warmth.
I can’t watch you leave again and yet, I know you’ll never leave. The simple thought of it, though, brings me agony. I can’t stay and watch you go; I can’t go and leave you here. Life will go on, whether or not I’m here or you’re here. But love will not, that is my grief, love will not go on if one of us is gone.
There is sorrow in the black of your eyes, my love. There is something I can’t explain, which grows deep inside you and slowly shows its face through your sweet dark eyes.
There is sadness in the white of your skin, my sweet. There is a subtle emptiness to your touch that brings back memories of when you weren’t here.