Come Never Say
by Marguerite Alvis Venable
Come, never say you wish you had not loved.
When nadirs come to be your own, and night
Your secret coil of blackness, tell despair
He cannot steal one vision of delight.
Each softness, every touch, will be yours still
As long as you recall, or can conceive,
And if your heart repeats that it is real
For long enough, you almost will believe.