So the late night was for naught
The smiles
The words
What awful companionship, me.

The pounding hours
And deathly crunch
Have cast a surreal ghoul
on
well
is there
was there
anything
To speak of?

I s'ppose I must content
Myself
That Fatigue overbore
You

Wouldst thou be so impatient
Wouldst I?
I don't know,
I don't know.