I loved you and then the day was gone.
Silence by the woods.
In the interior where the dwarfs lived
and the path led off into the shadows.
The shadows stood clear amongst blue sky
and woodland groves
so crisp that these aesthetics were
the only way to know consciousness.
From the valley you could see the mountains.
Aesthetics of your hips, the soft skin.
Your smell, a milk maid from the Alps.
Those hard and shiny nails
and of course your lips that dripped tangerines
behind the sunshine in the winter
when I took you into the house, by the hearth
to learn you
and then learning the story of the cosmos
from the apples collected in daily ritual.