maybe it will stay, maybe it will grow,
i can’t pretend to know, either way
we tend our yucca plant, we absolve the root rot,
weather the mistakes we make together,
drill the door with two towel hangers,
knowing we can’t always patch things up,
and still we think of baby bassinets in the study,
and still, you could leave me or love me, either way,
i’ll be just the same (alone in the end),
the funny girl with the comfort of every woman,
death do us part, but with you beside me, maybe
well maybe, i’d just have a better time rotting,
maybe it will grow, maybe it will stay,
i can’t pretend to know, either way.