Monday, 26 November 2012

Once after Pushkin

I loved you once. D’you hear a small ‘I love you’ Each time we’re forced to meet? Don’t groan, don’t hide! A damaged tree can live without a bud: No one need break the branches and uncover The green that should have danced, dying inside. I loved you, knowing I’d never be your lover. And now? I wish you summers of leaf-shine And leaf-shade, and a face in dreams above you, As tender and as innocent as mine.

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