Until Then

Until I attain the last of all uncertainties,

my inner breath will still taunt me with its youth

and only words scattered here and there,

glancing off the aches and pains of age,

will dance away, just beyond my grasp,

as well as your love

Until that final “how?” at which I comprehend

too well and too late to ever understand,

the heartfelt passion of my imagination

will remain bound and flustered by my inability

to be what I can no longer be

so well as you might deserve of me

And until that day drenches me with its finality

and humbles me with its eternal trance,

you might not know me for what I am

any better than I do – or can –

and yet you shall still be you,

embraced by what the years have not cost us.