As I was leaving, I returned for one last look, Asleep on your stomach, Shoulder blades pinned like the wings, Of the butterflies I admire so greatly. You pick me up, after work. Like wine for an occasion, I'm so happy to see your truck, Your secrets clatter to the floor, Another clue, I've been watching for. You toy with all subjects Decorating silence, like a tree I cannot hide my curiosity It barks like a dog, left in the car. What do I know of you so far? Your lips are made of the darkness, Your words arrive like the milk Your body folds over mine Like the emperor's finest silk. But where are your secrets? I am convinced, You live another life, I am obsessed with what it could be. I am keeping you in this museum, Devising chapters of our history. In it I will compose the past, The future you may keep, I only desire the last glimpses Every morning, as you sleep.
