You were so good to me

that September night … even to hurting me!

I do not know about the rest; and for that matter,

you shouldn’t have been so good, you shouldn’t have.

You sobbed that night upon finding me

hermetic and tyrannical, ill and sad.

I do not know about the rest … and for that matter,

I do not know why I was sad … so sad …!

Solely on that sweet September night

did I possess in your Magdalene eyes, all

the distance of God … and I was sweet to you!

Likewise it was a September evening

when I sowed in your embers, as decreed,

the puddles of this December night.