Perhaps not to be is to be without your being by Pablo Neruda

Perhaps
it wasn’t
meant to be
that much is true to me
now
after looking past the
origination of the rose’s
power
after looking past the
origination of your brow furled
and cower
after looking past the inspiration
rhetoric
the wheat-germ the tree-worm
the hogs breath
and whiskey barrel roll
after looking past all
the re-fills
and chicken wings

I see now that love
was perhaps not meant
to Be

Or maybe this is what Love is

I don’t know

do We?