Our lines were drawn by buried affections
Gilded by quivering skins
That knew estrangement,
But that soon would find oneness
On a path illumined only by
Light that space had abandoned.
Repose had ceased to placate the weary
Even when the journey seemed unbroken
And the hours fell back upon their slopes.
We will refuse to sigh until
The dusk of negation is suspended,
Until I can feel all your promises
Slithering in my thickened hand,
Restless as the leaves aflutter,
Witness to moments that danced until prostration
Even while the stars began to wonder in our direction.
Art: “Neige au soleil couchant”
Claude Monet
