Tomorrow's Warm Integrity

What love we could become still breathing could never actively restore what I have stolen silently and you have thrown away more protesting loudly What I have stolen could never be worth more than all your warm felt passions Compassion freely given and I have coldly paid to not feel again It feels so easy to love you more than me, and I have always loved you most when I can know, without self doubt, you might again love Us As we are today, unlike yesterday's diversions and not yet quite as great as tomorrow's still open gate.