"...and on nights when the lights in your poet's eyes
have faded into maybe-flickers
and she seems to be covered in some kind of distance
that you can't seem to reach across,
refrain from finding ways to try to make your poet smile.
Remember that her spirit isn't steel;
she's an alloy made of deepest sadness fused with deepest joy,
and that blending is the essence that first drew you.
So refrain from acting on your need to save her--
Just be present.
Put your arms around your poet gently;
tell her something small and true, if anything,
and remember that your silence will remind her
that your lack of cure could be the perfect remedy
for her lack of disease...."
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