my brain spins and spins
with thoughts of you. I'm lonely
and obsessed and blue,
but must drop the pretense of
us being together.
The summer sun will climb
in the sky again
but now the year
falls to winter.
I am cold and in the dark,
enclosed.
I must walk in the autumn sun.
I must shower and shave.
I must move through life
as if animated by a spark.

True anomaly at Epoch -
I spin in orbit
locked.