The trees: White as wedding gowns.
Shedding their blossoms, branches, crowns?
Like tears embarrassed, blow away free.
We sit. There is a path; under a tree.
People pass us by; time is slowed,
on a camera they’d fade into a blurred line;
we speak, words bound, betrothed.
Your voice: comforting as I drink your wine.
Were it not you,
what would be:
love?
Were it not for you,
What would I ask,
what would I ask to be?
Then I would float,
Float on those embarrassed petals,
white;
I would float standing, watching.
Watching you and me;
as you lean against me,
you see me on a swirling petal:
I float.
I look at you,
and in one moment I would say:
love’s eye is beyond one could ever see.
I am near you;
yet so endlessly far away,
floating in a blue sky,
I do not touch the ground;
were it not for you,
what would be:
love?
