First Day of Spring

Love walks on swift feet
And carries you back to your first love

Your first love enters your married home
On swift feet and turns it into a foreign land

All these years feel like a dream
And the dream moment is the only reality

He was but a pimpled boy
Why did he want to know women's ways?

Cupid is winged
And acned

The trees at your window burst their seed pods
They waft through your house like stars in a summer sky

Is this a new love or an old one?
Love is not love if it is defined

Love is a tent filled with light
To which lovers move for ages and ages

As if in a dream you rise
Morning to a strange yet familiar music

(for Ashfaque)

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