Thoughts ** (For Blaubeere)

Sleep my sweet love, I watch, I dare not touch though there is need and man's own repertoire supplies it all, indeed yet there is talk, ce soir about incessant greed which cannot be fulfilled nor would our cries be stilled. You reached. I took your hand and I shall hold it to the very day we wed, a silver band forged with a pit back to the day when you would ask me to be fed. Twas so bizarre, I said 'To Wit', I taste your finger on my tongue that's where we are. So may I ask do you confirm that it will never really pay to wait and squirm. Remove the mask climb up a rung and give your vows on this azure and fateful day.