Avenue of Trees

Oh so young when first I fell to fawn

But now its four years on

And though slight your shape belies

The teenage tambour of your tongue

Face and frame precious and plain

Yet all such things one day succumb

You were ten as I turned twenty one but now its four years on

Though liberties such as these scarcely trouble me

Sweet sweet the way you tease

Quatordici in spotty cheeks

Favors me such strange relief from certain culpabilities

And renders scenes so indiscreet someday to which wed seldom speak

So tender me this decency that stays thee safely out of reach

All the same were it true still theres room for two inside of you

But whats come over me

Would I falter hapless in your fleur de lis

Or the spare expanse beneath

Oh no not me so sickened to the teeth

To see thee rendered free of hallowed modesties

But oh that I could be among

Those fresh and fair faced thieves that stand to seize

Your sunbleached symmetries

And piece by piece these brief eventualities

Would reap of me in feats flung far from me

Whod treat you tenderly until we cease to be