Do we have an existence beyond what we do?
Let us say at this moment I kiss you,
What am I, except the kiss I experience with you,
And if whispers of those who discover what we do
Cause us harm, fear of this defines me and you.
A thing is only a thing because of what we do.
This poem is a thing, a thing similar to you.
This is a poem because of what we do.
What am I doing in this poem, as I think about you?
If I have an existence beyond what I do,
Is a thing I consider—a thing as real to me as you.
See how one’s thoughts go on and on?
God. All we did was kiss on the lawn.