(no subject)

What but I and who but you
Remain renewing? Let's review.

Not the snakes, for snakes a skin
Is something old to shake within.

Not the phoenices, whose seas
Of fire retire when out of trees.

Not the vows, for what's vowed once
Won't stand for later vows' affronts.

Not the generations, those,
Like naked crowds they wear, are clothes.

Not the days, for days are shines
Pulsing out toward out in dotted lines.

Not the nights, which never yet
Themselves in just the same way unforget.

What but you and who but I
Cohabitate in your reply?

What can it be not you, not me?
Or we, is that what makes us three?
Who else but we could the extra vagrant be?

And yet in your eyes it's a silence I see.