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Long Days Already Greening

If, on a ruined day, there is

lonely music playing in an empty room

and the sun, in dull ashen sadness, sweeps

itself off the stage, and the moon goes mad

and your arms are full of birds


then think that this is how I have always loved you

Traveling, traveling, we missed each other

by years and years, but what does that matter?

I am still yours


In this late hour, with one lamp lit

and time wandering in the kitchen

looking for what is left that it might eat

I still want to believe that we were

born for this:


To deceive the dead and fool the living

just long enough to make it to the

endless road that we have walked before

and will walk again. For this is how

I have always loved you: here and there,

a soul, a being, bright and burning, dangerous

up to the last minute because I believed

that I could change my life


You are my witness. But be careful:

we cannot know what long days

already greening in some ancient pasture

still think that we are slaves