Modern Love Xlvii (You'Ll Live But I'Ll Not, Perhaps) Poem by Liberatore Suffoletta

Modern Love XLVII

You'll live,
but I'll not; perhaps,
Oh, how strongly
fate’s secret plot
grabs us

I shall drink to a home,
that is lost,
to the evil life of mine,
that has me in its sway
to the aloneness
in which we’re both dancing,
And to your future, cheers

And, to these lips
by which I was betrayed,
To these eyes
that are deathly cold,
To the world
that is shy,
and lastly,
that we were
not saved
by God,