Sempiterne

You are like a bird that sits on my shoulder and pecks at my ear -
Right through my ear! -
right through my skull
and into my mind,
and you re-embroider yourself on my cortex, though I’ll pull out your stitches again and again
You are like a bird…
But, no, you are more.  Birds sleep, too, and cannot pester your memory both night and day.

You are like a fallen fruit, that sits beneath the drooping tree and waits for winter -
Growing limp and sour
and  brown and wrinkled -
and turning into a sticky, messy mush at the touch of my fingers, though I still tell myself not to entertain thoughts of picking you up again.
You are like a fallen fruit…
But, no, you are more.  Because a fruit eventually rots away, then it is gone for good

You are like the ocean that stretches endlessly ahead and behind and beneath
To the depths of the trenches -
and to the very tips of the sky,
until I find myself sinking and flailing in your vastness, though I keep telling myself that I do know how to swim.
You are like the ocean…
But, no, you are more.  If I drown in the ocean, I will eventually find the bottom and will cease to sink down and down.