I descended, giving you my arm, at least a million stairs
and now that you are not here every step is emptiness.
Even so our long journey was too brief.
Mine continues even now, no longer in need
of coincidences, reservations,
ploys, and the scorn of those who believe
that reality is what we perceive.
I descended millions of stairs giving you my arm
not only because four eyes perhaps see more.
With you I descended those stairs because I knew
the only real eyes, although very blurred,
belonged to you.