As we pass through time
I recall a few things,
among them there's a smile,
yesterday evening,
the curving shape of eyebrows
and lashes
I know,
and grins,
have I seen them,
plenty of fake visions;
and I promise myself
never to let fall again
intrude in this life
or trust and
imagination come near,
the things you have said
and what I have had to bear with,
all these are tiny fragments
of history
compared to
what I can remember,
said he,
having come from distant places,
and without beliefs,
neither dreams
nor illusions,
only a particularly precious
pair of dark brown eyes,
only that nose,
and hands alert
watching to reach out,
and back to where it all comes from,
I would call that distant,
but it's really age -
true recollection,
complete, socialising,
never acting without thought,
always planning,
and sometimes only
wasting.