Afternoons before today.

Here is the world august and round
Here is my heart free but bound
If what I hear is not a sound.

If what I hear is what I see
As the lumber wades through the sea
The silence counts from one to three
The silence stays from one to three.


Strange life, whose lie we live
Voluptuous hearts which never grieve
Are fond of me, and I of them.

If eyes were ears and ears were eyes;
If heart was mind and mind was heart
Then who would you love?


And who would love you
Forever?