How Lucky I Am

How lucky am I, man
to have felt her for a day
alone, to have known love brief
and fleeting

How lucky am I
that her fair features fade,
and the chirps of her resting breath,
in such short time
under the mind’s hot iron

How lucky am I
to have lost before losing could prime
to have shed the coat of her embrace
to have undone the touch of her hand,
her face, a wail on the wind,
a nothingness where she laid, replaced
with part of self held to disgrace, erase
all
erase

How lucky am I
to not have loved and lost
but never loved at all