by choosing, i become.
in my final decision, I am.
when they lay my wasted body in the ground, let me mark the earth
with the roots of shade-giving oak.
”The world asks of us
only the strength we have and we give it”
for those who will go to war without enmity,
for the half-man, half-horse.
and if the world should decide for me,
(maybe it already has, for i bear barrenness),
or perhaps if there is no failure of logic this time,
if the bell jar remains firmly in place,
then let me love,
and lose,
let me choose,
recklessly.
”Then it asks more, and we give it”