by the way,
I have always loved you,
unwonderlingly which
I do not think
another hand
would be so nice
in mine

a hand last held
—no void to fill:
(the hand that grasps
is empty still).

so wait this hand
to holdest yours
when shut my eyes
as closest doors

no part, no rent
will bear the breaking
of flesh’s joy
a join making

so lay in still
at slumbers ask
a morn will come
where loves a bask