Lover’s Love evanescent, with your fast feet fleeing, you go where so few can, or even dare to follow. You leave us lost in the black, low hearts lamenting; in the mourning, we beat our breasts, and gnash our teeth. I have clawed at my flesh; ripped open my skin, and tried to escape this goddamned vessel spoiled by your fleeting touch. But! I’m nearly as quick as you now. And I do dare to follow. Because this time around, my Lover’s Love is worth the run.