I long for that one moment still,
when your bare body finds its rest
beside me in the tall green grass,
beneath an endless sky of blue.

I long for all the times we shared,
the days we gathered, hand in hand,
before we filled our pockets full
with little treasures, bright as dreams.

I know that poetry’s no canvas,
no veil to hide behind the lines;
it is an open, waiting book
that any wandering soul may read.

Blushing, too, belongs to life —
that awkward heat before the crowd,
when deep inside you cannot tell
what you should ever apologize for.

You’d like to sleep here naked too,
yet fear my touch might stray too close,
and wake a silent, sleeping fire
you locked away so long ago.

I long for our forgotten freedom,
when nothing else around us mattered,
when all the world dissolved to this:
just you and I — and nothing more.

… and our kiss.

Tomaž Jevšenak