Maybe

There are prayers
that no one prays;
stairs never climbed,
stars whose light never
passes through the eye-

you are one of them.

And so like curtains
filtering the room
keeping out mornings light
or like black bulls who die

beneath a fighter's cape.

If only I had suffered
more, held you longer in
a snowstorm, drowned myself
in dreams of fire, maybe

you could love me now.