falling

he will come back my seal,
don't fold like the envelopes
you always send into your boxes.
my eyes have captured what you have lost in him,
nothing but i know you feel that way.
the days of the week are marked his name.
the hours of the month are all gaping open,
hoping for it, always, waiting to be filled.
you are a white mask, you are bloody love encased.
it is evident how both of you yearn
to sing in each other's sheet's,
the beatles always scurrying between you.