A Bad, Really Sad Poem

I knew that I had lost. And I was glad.
Until you told me it was a game;
and I learned that you I'd never had.

Which one is the greater loss, my love -
to have lost my breath to your loving sight,
or to know that you were never 'the sight'?

And I still hope that you sleep in peace,
while I tame my fading breath into life -
may you never know what it is:

fighting life.

Six and Seven

Want, I do. Wait, I will.
Can't you hold me until

until I learn more of you;
until I want to my fill -

fill I must, this dream of you -
fill with wait; fill with will -

can't you hold me until
I learn to wait and to will?