Poetry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I, you and we.

 

Iíve travelled  fifteen hours

And had kept this place in me

As a compromising secret.

 

No thoughts, only air and grass

in this outdoor shelter,

even cowshit smells tasty.

 

I said no thinking! less an innocent

Flash sense of me love me and

clean air in my chest and limbs.

 

A sweet one on butterfly wings

Passes and I whisper a name

As a wish of you and I.

 

You is a child or a woman

And they might enjoy with me

Or tell itís time to go down.

 

Itís the place, not mine, anyoneís.

I and we will sit here thoughtless.

But thatís a sweet little lie.