I want to read your diary.
Not to dry your tears but cry them.
What is closer than close but inside?
Not looking up at leaves but through them.
Dappled shade and dappled light.

I want to know why you kissed me.
Why your silhouette is dancing on the moon
and why stars pool in your eyes.
Why your lips have more flavor than brandy.
I could get drunk on apricot brandy.

I want to know what's behind your smile.
Why birds sing about your birthday.
What you were thinking
when you dropped a shilling
into the beggar's cap.
Did you smile and think of me?

I don't care if I'm poem or prose,
just read me all the same.
Don't leave me out of your story.
I love like Cyrano de Bergerac
but love me like Lancelot in Camelot.

I want to read your diary.
Not to dry your tears but cry them.