Please, don’t.

I — 

I could. 

I could, love. 

I could love you. 

I could love you if… 

I — 

I wanted. 

I wanted to. 

I wanted to, love. 

It's lying on its back 

on a large flat rock,

exposed to the grayish sky like an offering 

to some odd god.

There's a hole in its breast, 

It’s morning in Paris, 

and the city still sleeps, 

though the sun has long risen 

and the cat has long been stretched in the light 

that washes over the quiet courtyard.