And all I did was forget.
Her name, too, I couldn’t remember.
It was her I truly felt
myself falling in love with—
and she with me,
as the moon is with the land.
Both enigmatic, bright, unreachable,
a being nights are fated to dream of.
And she, to me,
was an impossibility.
I’m glad I got to know her,
and she to know me.
But without memory,
who is she, really?
Oh! For the life of me,
I could not remember.
Yet in great sincerity,
and—though hurting—without regret,
I, a person of many dreams,
once fell in love.
And it was with the moon,
her reflection,
the one Icarus truly fell for.
No comments:
Post a Comment