63.

You see before you a man more ridiculous

Than in his youth: his hair and gums

Are not as fair as once they were

If they were. You met him after

He could barely see and now he is

Almost blind, not seeing enough of the world

To see you whole. But you are doing

The looking, even in your chosen silence,

And I, like too many poets before me,

Have come up wanting in love’s mirror

And have little business chasing figures

Of my own emptiness. Only your forgiveness

And patience leave a space for my foolishness

But I won’t forget how partial these words.