How do I decide: essay or letter,
free verse or sonnet; what it is I want
to say to myself, to you; if it’s better
to have or to hold. Alone, I go gaunt
posing stupid questions! We’ve but one life
to live—together or apart, our time
will come. What benefit, my dear, this strife,
this reticence, this timid, silly rhyme?
Because friendship and romance coexist
in our hearts, I hold my tongue. We can know
true love, find release in imagined trysts—
rush of blood to the brain, meeting of souls
where else is forbidden! What we can’t bare
is ours to yearn; O, to touch you everywhere…