02:37 am

I have something more to say
frail like a young stem
something just as green

I think if I were to die:
here; now
I would not be upset
and I think if I were told just now
that I was to live
forever here
I would not be upset still

and it is sweetly silly
that love makes
letting go easy—
sometimes, perhaps
perhaps a short love only
a sensation that visits
only in the gentlest of nights

perhaps this will be my lover
and my war
perhaps it will be one
because it will be other
it is sweetly silly