It means more to me to have the poems
Than it ever did to have you.
It means more to me that I could retain
A measure of humanity
In the midst of my recriminations.
It means more to me that I am poor
Than it would to prosper at your side.
It means more to me that I might know
The secret pageantry of my heart
And not the frenzied silence of your dreams.
It means more to me that I live honestly
Through the repertory of days
Than lie for the spoils of your world.
May the light of forgiveness find us both
And transform our desperation
Into a healing power that dispels the lies.
The countless evasions and retaliations
Punishing us for who we could not be,
Abusing us for all we could not give.