When Words Are Left To Say Poem by S.J. Goldner

Maybe I'll die when I'm twenty-five
And maybe you'll love me then.
If I die when I'm twenty-five
Will you be sure to tell me when

The first time we touched you had loved me
Then—And all thru grade school, high school
Dear,
I wanted only to call you mine.
Scared to fall—To alone to know,
what it was like in your sublime-filled

woe. Unimaginable grace in a tranquil gaze,
my pier stood on end at the thought of your
breath against my neck.

My sweetheart, love, "come for me, " you said.
And I came once. After all was dead.


for spf