Thousands upon thousands of years
are not enough
to tell you
the tiny second of eternity
wherein you kissed me
and wherein I kissed you
one morning in the light of winter
in Park Montsouris in Paris
in Paris
on earth
the earth who is a star.
An orange on the table Your dress on the rug And you in my bed Sweet gift of the present Freshness of the night Warmth of my life