Don’t expect me to tell all
What is spontaneous when she speaks is the disappearance
Strumming in frustration above the abyss
From the first gray dawn of light
It becomes apparent
We were friends in a moment
Illustration of love—first chance
Illustration of love—second chance
Illustration of love—immediately after the second chance
Interlude between chances
Which will make her remember where the springs vanished?
Someone who spoke only of secret things
Buried fire there
When the branches were dry
And the fear of life ready enough for the void
Which opens this sky of ice
This white ceiling
(We have loved each other under this ceiling …)
In the steps of the moon—I said yes
And off I went
Don’t expect me to tell all What is spontaneous when she speaks is the disappearance Strumming in frustration above the abyss From the first gray dawn of light It becomes apparent
We were friends in a moment Illustration of love—first chance Illustration of love—second chance Illustration of love—immediately after the second chance Interlude between chances Which will make her remember where the springs vanished? Someone who spoke only of secret things Buried fire there When the branches were dry And the fear of life ready enough for the void Which opens this sky of ice This white ceiling (We have loved each other under this ceiling …) In the steps of the moon—I said yes And off I went
[paraphrased]