The loneliness of stoics
Rocks, ancient rivers
Streaming only through
Blue hills, shadowed banks
The shade that makes
All bare boys shiver
Beneath the leaves.

The lake glistens
Such golden boughs
Hanging overhead
Lanky limbs
Wrestling
Sharp elbows
Digging
Into ribs
Upon damp grass.

This was the time
Before women
Before black hair
Swung lightly over
Our shuddering shoulders
Before dark eyes
Consumed
Fiery tongues

Before we could imagine
Such soft perfumed skin

Existed

Only in dreams
Only in books

And then…our life.