What if I don’t?

“And what of it?”

he asked–

what of the moments

you can’t unclasp?

Others hold on

so tight

don’t they?

What is it

about you?

What is it

you seem

to actively do?


Fingertips white

knuckled grasp

can’t unclasp

the grip:

I unscrew.

Walk away.


Don’t delay.

The thoughts we have




“Could you be happy?”

he turned to me

his eye

half blind


averting mine




in black

on his skin.


Could I be happy?

if or when

goals fall short

from the sight

they are in?


A sigh from puckered lips:


I believe,

I could

step into

that moment

the future

one day,

perhaps with an absolute


I could say:

my moments

are filled

with the heart of a man,

of a life


my moments are  filled

with love


and nothing more.


So, what if I don’t?

I suppose

that will do

since all the fanfare

I need

is deep

within me

and ignited

by you.




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