the vows that were never witnessed or heard.

the lovebirds have flown away,

my fountain pen knows more of me than i know myself,

every trace keeps reminding me that you are my author's secret impossible to reveal,

I don't know why I keep writing on yesterday's page

as if it needed to give it a better ending to the raw and true end,

inking notes with the calligraphy that used to draw our initials in a arrowed heart,

i once believed faithfully that the same hand that compose this harrowing fragment

would be the one which sign our marriage certificate

and the wedding ring would match us evermore,

but no contract of souls could resist the art of the bewitchment of our torn demons,

i can't bear witness of the script of an expired story

as if i had the power to change the ending,

now all i have are these crumbled up lines that cling to my memory,

and my vows are knots in my mind, throat, heart and guts.