Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien
in your eyes i can see a forest, that you once saw, being
reflected from so many years ago, because your eyes
trapped the light and let it go so slowly and now when you laugh
i can see the sleepy river that ran through the forest.


the river glistens beneath the sun's dumb heat but there's
a cabin built there; kept cool under trees (whose leaves are at war
with the sunshine - at war with the raindrops - in love with the wind)
and in the cabin we'd kiss with open mouths and hearts on fire.


but, i know that they would be farewell kisses and that
if our two bodies ever wandered through those trees again
what we thought we had mastered would turn and leave just silence


the forest's flowers would wither, the walls of the cabin
would fall, and the next time i looked into your pretty eyes
i'd only see three colours: white, then honey brown, and then black.

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