we ambled along
the side of the cemetery
road,
carrying out shoes.
a slight yellow
moon
as if an eye, visible
between
the floating clouds.
the grass
was wet
on our bare feet.
i remember it well.
her hand
in mind
as we read
the carvings
on the stones, tilted,
or on the ground,
upright.
born then died.
was it love, or something
else.
too young
to understand
these desires.
about to be fulfilled.
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