Classic Poem

If, in ten years, you should come to me, broken,
Your following relationships failed, your
Thighs bloated with cellulite, your cheeks fattened, your spouse
Uncaring; if then you should tell me
You wished you had given yourself to
Me, that night, all those years ago, when
Sitting on a couch I had touched your cheek; if
The emptiness of all these years is what it has taken
To make you wise, to open your
Eyes to what you really want; if in
Dreams between then and now, you have known
Your real desire; if it is now, in your diminished
Beauty and heightened knowing that you wish to give yourself to me,
Then know: know that it was not your beauty
That I wanted, nor now your wisdom: I craved
Compassion, expressed in tender touch: the very thing your years
Will not let me offer now.