Who Knows Poem by Albino Pierro

Who knows.
No doubt they were afraid
to disappear should their breaths touch;
they were a colored
soap bubble to each other,
and knew perhaps a stream
of ashes flows after a fire
and that if madmen scream
too much
they're locked forever
where no one ever goes.

I don't know where they are now,
whether alive or dead,
the lovers;
whether they walk together still
or if the devil willed them far apart.
I hope to God
they have not turned to mud
along the road.