At last, my love gave me that scene from a movie;
it was all ugly gasping and absurd fists
pounding on his chest.
Streaming ochre and talc. Screams down a Madrid street:
come back. come back. don't just leave me
standing
here.
don't leave me. just, please.
be just.
Please.
I said, "We are meant to be. This is our lives' great love."
He said, "Meant to be is a continual deciding."
He was not wrong, he was not wrong. What a relief that he was not wrong.
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