Love Late

I sent my apology in a bottle

But only pieces of letters were found ashore

Readers speculated of intentions sometimes running into violent waves

Yet none saw that I was trying to piece together a heart I had torn

She was always counting the years

I was counting the times the cap turned

And always waiting for the tide to carry my remorse

So that I can tell you that I am yours

She loved me from the start

But she found me trying to unlove the fear

She calls me a liar

When I tell her I saw a light instead of a fire

I lied

She died

She died because the truth supposedly set me free

To only bind me to the love I was supposed to give

I seem to always love late

The merchant who arrives at the end of the trade

Perchance you read this to the end

I wanted to say how sorry of a man I am