and if the fantasy of love
were more fulfilling than its consummation,

would you yet tease me on
with your crystal distillations?

prod me to embrace
the un-made-up face of “our reality”?

disenchant me of my heightened elation
just so “I could see”?

untie the knot (not?) of imagination
and so release the air from my balloon?

compel me to accept the eventuality
of the rose’s dispelled bloom?

would you thus love me lover
and lead me toward the tomb?

or stay my friend forever leaving
me to daydream of sweet womb?