#242

This love is worse. Since

it can’t be confirmed, it can

never be denied.

___________

#242

I’d no sooner be

your Mistress than the sun would

stop at horizon.

___________

#243

Can’t you see, love, we

were spared the froth flame bruise-blue

ugliness of time?

___________

#244

 The first letters of

our names spell “yes” in Russian.

No question was asked.

___________

#245

Time’s cruel gimmick:

Eternity exists, but only

as a feeling.

___________

#246

(e.e. cummings-esque?)

This love is no noun,

No, now—a monsoon, gone soon

in all ways, always.

___________