I Mark This Grave

I mark this grave
for those who are not yet buried,
To make sweet the waters
that run through bitter hearts.

Fate has weaved
so strange a pattern for us
Under the flaring lights,
night after night.

It brought a sense of detachment
But not indifference,
Of otherness, but not apartness.

But let us not pretend to
untangle love’s complexity
by naming every
desperate strand.

Let us not celebrate
selfless love
that demands no return,
So you can try to forget,
If not forgive me.