the park bench

the dust of time
on a park bench
 in brussels...
that sunday
the rain,moistened
the eyes of love ...
scent of your skin 
lost summer and now
a year ago...
my fingers were drawing
your evasive landscapes
on a park bench
 in brussels...
pale and frail traveler
thoughtful white lady
sitting on the bench
 of my nights
memory touching
the cold of the mirror
 a year ago...
the dust of time
on a park bench
in brussels...