She thought that it was nice of him to care
enough to come for her. She wished he'd ask
whether she wanted to go back. The task
of being grateful just too much to bear
and getting used to air and wind and sun.
She liked it in the dark without loud breath
and heartbeat to disturb; had not liked death
enough to go through it again. No one
should ask that of her.It's not just the pain-
it's letting go and falling into black
into what seems the end because you lack
the language to describe it in a brain
that learns new pleasures. Now to be polite
she'll have to give up all the joys of night.