Where have we gone? Like one of those beautifully illustrated old books collected --- I just picked it back up yesterday. In the cold autumn twilight, with the candles burning and the folk songs crackling through old speakers, it just fell into my hands, my heart again… And was it ever gone?
If I knew what we were then, and where to go, I'd travel the miles to your doorstep once again -- swear it -- but I think you moved. I think we moved the mineral cliffs of fate in a way that wasn't natural. With my books of ethics I could run far away too, as before --- speak in other languages and jump across the sea -- but I'd be telling lies in a different way. The great big lie, for so long, that I can hear you saying to the wind as well; "will it ever go?".
So with this old book, let's let the mind fall down into the pages of a better, romanced, story -- just tonight remember--- one where "crossed" was all we were in fault…Where we had everything, and then it was gone so beautifully. So beautifully understood...When the leaves rustle all at once on my walks -- and he's running late coming home -- it reads like how I feel about you, and how we were young together in the night…
I've been mine, and yours, for so long that there must be another way.
. . .
