Consequences

I. Of Choice Despair is big with friends I love, Hydrogen and burning jews. I give them all the grief I have But I tell them, friends, I choose, I choose, Don’t make me say against my glands Or how the world has treated me. Though gay and modest give offense And people grieve pretentiously, More than I hoped to do, I do And more than I deserve I get; What little I attend, I know And it argues order more than not. My desperate friends, I want to tell Them, you take too delicate offense At the stench of time and man’s own smell, It is only the smell of consequence. II. Of Love People love each other and the light Of love gilds but doesn’t alter, People don’t change one another, can scarcely By taking will and thought add a little Now and then to their own statures Which, praise them, they do, So that here we are in all our sizes Flooded in the impartial daylight sometimes, Spotted sometimes in a light we make ourselves, Human, the beams of attention Of social animals at their work Which is loving; and sometimes all dark. The only correction is By you of you, by me of me. People are worth looking at in this light And if you listen what they are saying is, Love me sun out there whoever you are, Chasing me from bed in the morning, Spooking me all day with shadow, Surprising me whenever you fall; Make me conspicuous as I go here, Spotted by however many beams, Now light, finally dark. I fear There is meant to be a lot of darkness,