5 September 2012
Two hundred
And thirty-seven
Days and
Four thousand
Five hundred
And ninety-five
Miles
Separate us.
But what is
Time and distance
To the heart
Except a formula
To grow fonder,
In longing and waiting,
So your return
Will be more joyous
And will compensate
In over abundance
For the time we lost
Being continents
And heartbeats
Apart.
Two Hundred And Thirty-Seven • Opuss № I