How then?

I have seen so much misery
at night\between sleep
I see it again
the faces
the sounds
always
the smell
no jasmine nor roses for them

How then
to gauge happiness
so elusive
amidst so much ruin

it falls to my speech
to attempt
to explain
to fight
yes fight
the barren ugliness
with love
my love
for you

How then to
explain how i
have been gifted
to know you
these years
to laugh weep
curse sing pray
make love with you
to taste your sweetness
with every sigh
then wake each morning

how then to explain

I read where
John Keats never
consummated
his love
for dear Fanny Brawne
the act itself would have literally killed him
though I know
for certain
that I would have for you
and would have believed
that I had drawn the fortunate
turn
amidst the beautiful barren
moments of light