If she still loves you, maybe she will appear
When you do, but the important thing
Is her intention. If she’s accidentally there,
Keep your distance, and be careful; don’t stare.
If she’s feeling weak and wants you again
She might allow you to look on her beauty again,
But she might be afraid; she was always afraid; if she’s here,
Don’t think it means anything. Maybe she will appear.
But don’t you see? It’s better that you are not here
When she loves you, than you be here when she does not love you.
It’s the intention. Not where we are.
Love could be on the earth. Or on that distant star.
She might not say anything. And not one of your poems she remembered to save.
But maybe she loves you. Think how nice it will be when she slows down by your grave.
A polite word, a simple exchange you have with someone you know, and she knows
Makes you happy. Love is gone. But it still goes.
Love is large when it surrounds a love that’s small.
Love is here, Rosalinda, when love is not here at all.
