shall I?

I bring her
a copy

of Paradise Lost
and, in itself,

beyond
understanding

learning
to improve

dying
asking

such questions
as what shall I

whom will I
where is she

.......
made for love

you do sort
of become her

now sitting
in it, seeing

the night and
the day

rolling
past us

every hour
manifesting

art without
sleep

risking reality,
in a haze

.......
are you?

from Paradise Lost by John Milton: "The mind is its own place, and in itself / Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n"