"Should we break up?"
(like the universe that, lying, we once worshipped
where I found the wooded field
/you foraged flowers.)

"Is it over?"
(like the night that you mistakenly uncovered and,
unknowingly, addressed my naked fears.)

"Please don't go yet."
(from the back of my old car, we learned to stretch the time and space
to make them ours.)

Should we break up,
(like morning does),
(unlike to lie in bliss, so-laughing)
I'd lose foresight
for my eyes, so full of tears.