One day the honesty of love
simply melted like the snow
but then the clouds disappeared,
the sun shone brilliantly,
and we thought it was good.
We never saw the lingering
of head bent cautiousness
or knew how quiet withdrawals
taint future outlooks.
But here we stand beneath the
sun;
surely we’d remember
that beautiful appendage
to the body beautiful?
We thought, we think, but can it
be
we live without love’s honesty
because, because, we thought it
good
that day it disappeared?
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