truce (a love poem)
because your unbeing is possible
today in the middle of our muddle about
showers
I collapse
fall like a drop
onto your bed
and surrender
this is so dumb for us to be arguing about
I throw in the towel
and, disarmed, you agree and
we cease
to struggle
both knowing how now will be then
and not wanting to look back wistful
disappointed in ourselves and our carelessness
not wanting to squander love’s warmth
on righteousness
