Even here in the company of love, doubts linger and will continue to linger. Nothing is certain for tomorrow, yesterday is gone, only the present moment is real; and, perhaps, just perhaps, that is enough. Almost as though he were consciously rejecting the goddess herself, he corrects his statement, "If the moon did not . . . / no, if you did not," the moon being another form of the goddess. The poet has committed himself to the woman, the physical and not the mythical woman. And the risks are great: "What is it that/ is finally so helpless,/ different, despairs of its own/ statement, wants to/ turn away, endlessly/ to turn away"; "Can I eat/ what you give me. I/ have not earned it"; "Love what do I think/ to say, I cannot say it." Nevertheless, effortlessly, the questions are answered or perhaps simply allowed to dissolve into irrelevancy: "Into the company of love/ it all returns." What appears to be a shallow conclusion is anything but that, because the poet has been through hell and has seen it all.