Desire’s undiluted sequence ends
the scene, concealing what will save us. Claim
the center. Don’t pretend you didn’t aim
if what’s outside the camera’s frame offends.
Beyond the masks we wear, beyond the blame,
a name twists around your failure. Make
amends, but don’t forget: all that conforms
survives. It’s simple. You let your old self fall,
a leaf in autumn, alive with color, but dead.