Spring 1985, Volume 2
Poetry

Merlin Cheney
Painful Confession

There are times when I would fold
you deep inside my arms and hold
you there, and weep the tears of
love and pain borne molten from my heart
for all the things you are and need not be,
and all the things you're not and might have been,
But for your essential goodness and despair
you are not.
For all you've missed,
all that's missed you,
everwhy,
I weep.