If only
I could have sent you
someone else’s words with
someone else’s music conveying
someone else’s feelings while
claiming them as my own.
If only
day were as night.
If only
some god or
the walls could have let me
know how to
love your name for more than
its evenness,
your laugh more than its
frequent sincerity,
your eyes their deceptive
frailty.
But I could do without
these gods or
these walls bringing us apart
or taking us together.
If only we
were not clothed
as children.
