when it is done

I do not understand, he said,
the why or how or what may be

when it is done, you will still be
and breathing bring joy to those who
love-need-enjoy you perfumed
and mouthfully potent beyond ends

when it is done, time will still progress
confessing neither niceties nor sin
yet embracing both and all in between
as it ever has without fault or charge

pleasure will still be yours in abundance
as lovers line up to enchant you,
eager and warm and beyond reproach
for life refuses to judge either way

stinting time has yet to stilted restrain
your burning youthful ambitions;
the years weigh not so heavily on you
as do the days, the hours on me

for you see, life abjectly bows to you—
yet some distant day as the fire wains
and the embers cool and the passion
of others pleases you less and less

perhaps then you may come to know
than none could adore you as I have

İstanbul 3 December 2021