STILL

All I ever asked was Are you lonely?

Is there any way of helping you?

So you found some motive for my

Helpfulness: I loved you; yes

   Ah yes, how very true.

 

Am I such a fool? Are all men fools?

Is it the ego, id, or yang or yin,

So to desire something that’s denied us

Having had no hope of

   Any such thing?

 

As if one autumn afternoon at sunset

In a forest far from human view

Suddenly the birds should all fall silent, and

Half hoping still, I’d turn

   And look for you.

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