How often I want to ask you
Could you love me
Could you do
What I need you to do?
Could you stand beside me while I dance this daily danse macabre
Could you abide me even as I rob
From you your afternoon light?
The hydrangea with which I've bedecked my mantle
Arrived already dead
Not wilted but crisp and warm brown in their winter sleep
A bit like me
This "elegant skeleton" who
Stands here before you, still
Possessed of beauty in my place between the worlds, asking
Could you love me? Could you
Love me loving you? Could you
Tend to my grave after I've passed through?
Could you adore this thing that insists to cling
To sides of cliffs
Stubborn goat
Who- all too aware the narrow ground is
Even now crumbling beneath her cloven hooves?
Who refuses her place in the Ridiculous parade for
Those vainglorious warriors who maintain
Some futile hope against entropy—
Could you love me?
Could you accept me loving you?
Could you even
Dance with me, or simply bang the
Timpani while I do what I do?
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