As if it were for us,
another moon lights up
and unfolds
a blank page for the night,
still to be written,
as if for us alone
then the night yields
but demands words
and caresses,
love's familiarities.
can you tell me a road,
a solitary road,
that's ready for us,
for us,
who are leaving home
to encounter a night
that, yielding, looks at us
and lets us go by.
can you invent a road for me,
a solitary road,
that's right for us,
for us,
who are coming from home
to steal from the night
a blank page
still to be written.
As if it were for us
another moon lights up,
but it demands words
and caresses,
love's familiarities.