AFTERWARDS.

I would comfort her
As if she were
Crying,
But I can’t, you see,
Our history
Is dieing.

We broke down last week
And dare not speak
As lovers;
It’s too painful how
We know not now
Each other.

I’d invest my faith
In grand debates
Of letters,
But she could not live
One more day with
Bad debtors.

And it’s now because
This lady was
My lover
That I’ll never be
Able to see
Another.