his Love Song

. . .
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

. . .

And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball?
. . .