The circular lake of the moon echoes our footsteps
So deep, both the night and the lake
His voice wonders
“No”, said I
He walks to me and hands me his cardigan
In the void of water, he jumps
In the woods that cover my skin that shivers
The scent of him left in the fabric that hugged him
The scent of the mosses where I sit
His hair shines like the sundrop as his body lifts the water
The like of his and the stars up the void
And my scars to be made