I refuse to die in a bunker, even if
it’s with you, my dear. I want the
slow death of struggling for light,
hand in hand, through the tremors
and the flames. Do you recall when
we thought things were okay? I am
thankful to live in a time of terror.
The bomb can go off any moment:
there are so many triggers, we’ve
lost track of who or what can pull them.
What do we gain from inner peace?
Humanity risks extinction because
we love the wrong things too much.
I am under no illusions. To love you is
to resist oblivion, to laugh at craters.
