The spring air, dusted with pollen,
Yet clear as fine glass
Filled our lungs as we ran
Laughing teasing
Breathing until it hurt

Remember the books I gave you
Returning what was stolen
And adding something more
The heavy smell of your fireplace
Coated my tongue
We sat on your hard red
Furniture, uncomfortably fancy.

That day in the light was the first,
The buds in the apple tree were bursting,
Flowering in the clarity of the day,
Exposing their sweet butter insides.
We were the constants,
Uninterrupted energy
Flowing like water in the sunlight

Staring at the eggshell walls
On that wooden bench
As dark as my soul
I watched you pass by
Without the slightest
Glance in my direction
I never saw your face as
I kissed your forehead