You looked at me,
And that's the first thing I remember.
Then I remember that I was sitting on the top of the blue bench in the courtyard
smiling, eyes glowing
(I was happy then.)
And you looking at me
like the moon looks at the sea
with eyes that matched the season
and leaves scraping against
cold concrete
and you writing poetry
of the muse that was me.
"Look at me."
And I blushed and obeyed
and glowed for you.
and you smiled
and kept writing.
You understood me.
And the wind blew then
gently, unlike the beating of my foolish autumn heart
too ol
