I would love to love that well
That I must leave ere long so
Much I fear not loving it
Enough thanks to distractions,
Trivial annoyances,
Mundane griefs, unhappiness,
Almost as much as I fear
Inevitably leaving
It, the unmaking of it
All in every direction
Of forever, pasts never
More existed, presences
Never presented. I know
What it is to not have known.
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