She made such declarations when she was dying.
I found out how much she loved me in the crying,
In crying that wet her face with waters of torrential rain.
She loved me, dying, in pain.
She confessed in the shade.
A love that loves is the love that’s not afraid.
You were different. You loved me now and then.
You held back. You were proud. You knew many men
Could be yours. You greeted me when
You were in the mood, and you were afraid
I would be with another in the shade.
A love that loves is the love that’s not afraid.
She forgave me.
She was out of her mind
And I was out of mine.
We talked in the evening. There was no wine.
Hesitantly, we held each other in the shade.
O the love that loves is love that is afraid.
