rites of passage

Wandering through our house alone,
my tears withheld, I will not part
although the empty veers to scorn
in passages I know by heart.

What's fair in love? Unjust abounds.
A year ago, we fell apart;
this time, we stick to circling round
the passages we know by heart.

Wish I may or might, my prayer
always that we would never start
to unravel what resides there,
in passages deep in our hearts.

I'm wandering our house alone,
through passages I've learned by heart.

Kerry's weekend mini-challenge to the Real Toads is to try one of several forms of the Kyrielle. This is my attempt at a Kyrielle Sonnet.