And so
I am condemned to my loving you
As the ramshackle house, at a street terminus.
But no one prepares you
For the destruction of it
Inevitable
As heat death
Or crumbling mountains
Or the folding days
And as all is brought back
To grass
To earth
To moss
To modicum stardust
So am I
For
Like the house that the brats burnt down
I am condemned
Like bones to ash
Or hearts that roar.