Tis for Thee, Hamlet!

Is this a dagger I see before me?

No, 'tis only a key - for where, for where?
What doth thee unlock? Tis merely a trifle
to begin the end, to begin the end.

Time ripples as the heart drops -
marbled, dead - a fossil of a love story.
And it itches! and it repeats
in my head, in my head.

The words do not agree
and thou will never be mine
thine never mine, no no no.

And where shall we meet
except in my dreams?
Only in my dreams.