an autodidact meets a dilettante…

too much imagined in a smile, or not

that is the question.

youth, age, weave with guilt and fading hope

smiles and glances, wondering at wondering.

language will fix it, and it will

fix it.

Her need is clear, surely, and I can help.

No matter that I can help others, many others.

My choice is selfish, not immoral.

Think of the harm principle.

And fuck you.

It will probably not come to that anyway,

and life will go drearily on.