My Final Sonnet (for You)
There’s no graceful way to ask
if you still love me–
so if I can’t spare my dignity,
at least spare my heart and say you do. Don’t let me know that all my waiting– the frost creeping up my hands, feet, crawling up towards my desperate heart, still beating– was for nothing.
I’ve been here so long
that I wonder what hurts more:
frostbite, or waking my heavy limbs
and leaving?
I think I’ll take my chances
and pump blood through my limbs again.
