We used to walk, holding hands, laughing
touching,
no need to talk, on railroad track
empty beach, or vacant street
sit in noisy restaurants, never speak
Just you and me and what we thought was turth.
Two forgotten coffee cups, cold like guilt or fraud
balancing on the edge of being left forever.
The single lie between us.
We had no hunger and no thirst.
We ate and drank each other.
My arms and thighs never wearied
from the weight or want of you.
Now those days, long passed, dimissed
some of them forgotten,
pushed hard and held
behind my eyes,
to be recalled on lonely days
in someones elses smile.
Someone elses
walk along the railroad ties.
What is love but seeds of sharing, caring?
Passions gestures, swept away by winds of time
Springing forth in the youthful urges
of my strange children long ago conceived
on vacant beaches in the sun
or under moon and stars
finally burried
planted somewhere in the earth
The loam of an idle mind.
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