Aphasia
breeds me next I fear
Already
pleurisy infects the lung
And
soon will scour for the other
Leaving
me a remnant, my dear
Would
you love me even then?
Would
you love me as much when?
All
of me
All
of these things
Untrue,
confounded
You
know me
You
know what’s below
The
exterior
And
that which melts beneath
But
I ask the question still,
Even as the answer stands so clear,
Could
you?
I knew you would. You always have.
