Short-termed

Sweetheart, go and tell:

Before I turned the page
I got the chance to
in cold ways: breathing
or whatever stands lesser apart from a warm talk
see how you were building up.

I'm bound to say:
You're seven times more committed towards the physical rush of the wind that leaves. I'm seven times more committed towards the rush returning.

Are we leaking already?

Had I known before,
had we met a lot sooner when our decisions were still atop the moon, I would have been seventy times more committed towards your side.

But we're still committed on paper, on strings.
Lesser the howling.