Tearing at the tendons
Ripping the sinew,
My heart, my love
Forgiveness was overdue
Gnawing at the cartilage,
Dissecting the hyaline
My one, my only
When did severance begin?
Lens produce the image
Pupils guide it through
A retina is built in layers
A portion sensitive to light
But it’s the nerve,
Conducting impulses to the brain
Too many valves,
So small a chamber,
Our union seemed so promising
If only the maturation
Wasn’t appositional
Perhaps the varicosity
Could have been relieved
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