If you’re leaving, in silence lock the door
Behind you, love; don’t make a sound, I plead.
If you’re leaving, our starlit nights will dim
But don’t you bother turning on the lights.
As all the dreams and plans will turn to dust,
In haste, I’ll let my skin forget your touch
And you, my heart, forget to grieve for us.
Forget the love, the “if”s, the hopes, the past;
Forget the countless puzzle pieces, too
Because we’ve long failed to make the picture.
But just before I’ll be forgotten, too,
Through the wind, I’ll whisper the song of fate
And slowly haunt your mind so when the wind
Sings to you again, you’ll never forget
That once, under the torrid sun you smiled.
A fierce sun was setting as I awoke;
The evening sky a liquid gold that leaked
from a painter’s fine brush — a brush you used
to ease my latent fears; a brush as smooth,
as light, as mighty pure as white feathers
from an angel’s wings sought to dry my tears.
And you, my love, left no room for darkness —
a smile that bright could gush nothing but light.
Your soothing fingers exiled the night’s cold
to lives lived a million years ago.
And in our warm summers, there’d been no pasts,
no future, only us and a pale moon,
feebly hidden beneath our golden skies.