Of love and suchlike things

For Telemachus

And here, in the midst of all our solitudes and lonely nights, here, away and apart and aloof from the crowds around us, I reach for you and hesitate and falter and draw back, and the moment passes, and if its shredded wings brush your skin in farewell, you show no sign of it, and we-- you and I both, my dear, and I assign and equally apportion the blame-- turn down safe, well-trodden paths, away from all that whispers of danger, and speak only frivolity, and set our faces firmly against the promise and warning of all that could have been, and, at the turn, your hand slips from mine, and we go our separate ways.

Adieu, my love.