I

 

You talk about the dark place you’ve been,

Even as you laugh

And I don’t know how to say it but I want to

Touch you, hold you there,

Kiss whatever ghosts of tears are left and set them free,

Like moths to the moonlight.

 

II

 

Rosy boy

Left a sweet ache in my thighs

Before I showed you the apple-mint

The lemon-balm

You smelt like last night’s dancing

Wrapped in my clean sheets

Warm sun falling slowly

Into a darkened room

 

III

 

Wine drunk, sun drunk,

We sit on the terrace above the trees,

Search for our own words in each other’s mouths,

And smile and gasp when we find them there -

Hand in hand in the forest,

Children in this small wilderness of our own making

We sit, feet dangling into waters that are gold with sunlight

And our own happiness -

We lie back on heather and bilberry bushes

Above steep falling valleys with our whole world below,

That our faces might plunge into the sky like a pool,

We turn and smile and kiss each other’s mouths

We know we are so young,

So tense and shimmering with life and

Will never be quite as such again.

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