I THINK OF YOUR FAC

A well-packed hiking bag

 and a pair of skirt pants.

 - That's what I thought of you when

 I searched through memories

 and rediscovered you in

 unbreakable infinity:

 the eternal minute-stop

 when you waited alone

 on the long-distance bus platform

 to the Archbishop's Square,

 in the cathlan of heat-clusters,

 hoping someone would pick you up 

and forgive you the weight

 of your burden!

 In the submissive 

and fragile lines of your

 swan shoulders

 I discovered not only you again,

 but also the shards of your

 disarming allness in your eye-sights!

 - And then thy valiant name,

 and then, on thy flushed rosy cheeks,

 to kiss thy rosebuds. 

Thy unwearied gaze,

 forgiving all, glid'd on my face's

 weary trenches!

 I pitied thee much,

 and pity'd the shower of thy truthful tears;

 - in our ancient ordeal,

 when fancy youth had

 mock'd thy spine-keeping,

 - how often I have wonder'd how

 I might comfort thee

 with a majesty of bearing, 

to fall humbly on thy knees,

 and kiss the pearl of thy tears forgiven,

 and rooted in thy honest innocence.

 - I have seen thy broken heart

 with doomed gaze,

 and I have seen well for myself

 the Cassandra-mirror

 of thy all-seeing, warrior's eye! 

Fairies, and angels, 

with humble innocence

 thus behold What they loved,

 in the sway Of your cooing

 faery-eye I would have lost

 happily independent and free!

Thy well-packed touring-bag,

 and alluring skirts

- Suddenly thy sharp,

 shining form in an

 unexpected hour thanked me,

 The eternal mornings

 when I could not with

 thee bear the burden of thy battles,

 In thy glance my self-doubt

 and little-believing will

 would have been relieved!