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 timbre of your tongue

face and frame precious and plain

yet all such things one day succumb

you were 10 as i turned 21

but now its four years on

liberties such as these scarcely trouble me

sweet sweet weakness

brings the way you tease

quattordici and spotty cheeks

favors me such strange relief from certain culpabilities

and renders seemed 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 (fluidly)

of spare expanse beneath

oh no not me so sickened to the teeth

to see thee roam free of hallowed modesties

but all 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 ween of me and feats from far from me

would treat you tenderly

until you cease to be