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April 25, 2004

THE COMING NIGHT
A Poem from León

I love you
    She whispered
The night still ripe
Her kisses anxious, soft
My lips running across her eyes
I love you
    She cried
The brilliant sun warm, high
Reflection of her sky
I love you
    She sighed
Her hair pulled back
My arms still, wrapped tight
I love you
    She thought
Her heart asked why
If I had answers, this paper be dry
I loved you
    She remembered
Her room full of sighs
I looked for the pieces
Of the nights gone by

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