I must accept but can't what cannot be.
I see you and my heart dissolves in pain.
You are not dead, but you are dead to me.
What happened to our love's a mystery.
I rummage through our empty past in vain.
I must accept but can't what cannot be:
That someone else now shares your off-hand "we,"
Now feels your tender tongue all feeling drain . . .
You are not dead, but you are dead to me.
I cannot lay aside my agony:
Again, again I play the same refrain.
I must accept but can't what cannot be.
And yet I know this tortured ecstasy
Is just my way of holding you again.
You are not dead, but you are dead to me,
And still I cannot bear to set you free,
That of our love some remnant might remain.
I must accept but can't what cannot be.
You are not dead, but you are dead to me.
---Nicholas Gordon
Circle
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Wondering what UCLA alumni poets are up to? Check out Circle Poetry
Journal, a published-by-referral-only journal, coming out Fall 2013. First
Cycle includ...
11 years ago
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