Another secret.

You see me arriving
you laugh
say hello
comment how bad my hair looks but how good I let my beard grow
and it seems it was yesterday when we met
and that four hundred days have not passed
since the last time I was in this same place
looking at you in this same way.
You ask if I still smoke
I nod
I would say you sadden
maybe
because of that secret fear you have
of me dying.

Secret.

I imagine you here,
under this tree
and I think that you'd be lovely.
I could even kiss you
if the circumstances were favorable
if you smiled at me a certain way
if you held my gaze
for a moment.
I would go to you then,
move the branches and leaves
from your face,
the hair tangled
in some twig
and afterwards
I would do what I already did ten years ago
in a tree like this
to someone named like you
that had your eyes
and had your hands.