What is a world,
is it all the stars
all the Venuses
or Freud's cigars
and penises?
Is it all the stitches,
all the scars
all the bridges
you crossed too far
the racket and rows,
the kisses and blows
or the safe havens,
the chattering crows
and the ravens?
When all has been said
between mortals
and even the rumble of seas
cannot linger,
maybe even worlds
as ourselves
come to peace.