Lasting

What if what I said to you today
Should be the last thing that I ever say?
How would I feel? Is what I say to you
Ever enough to tell you what you mean
And make a final message? Would I rue
The words I chose, and think them young and green,
The naïve belching of a wasted youth?
Or would they hold some kernel of the truth,
Some little corner of the love I bear
Towards you? Perhaps enough to let you know
In that last gesture, just how much I care,
And how I hoped our love would last and grow?
I cannot tell; and that is why I said
I love you as I tucked you into bed.