First I will forget your scent
reminiscent of wild olive spiced with musk
Then slowly I will begin to forget
your gentle and odd ways.
Letting go the cypresses of my heart
I would have surrendered all
but your eyes reflecting
unfathomable sorrows
Will I forget those?
I do not want to leave my soul
crumpled between sheets.
For me it will suffice to know
that you exist upon the earth.
Since what does your truth
and mine share
but a random point in time?
The gentle river of my dream will soar
you cannot contain its song
nor its chanted echo still.
And I will smile despite it all
Amongst the sand dunes and figs.
Antonia Baranov
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