Andalucian Pines

Last spring I cut down every branch
of old Andalucian Pine
I trimmed the leaves off of every tree
between your house and mine
So we could blow kisses at night
And we could show skin in the moonlight
And we could imagine a life
Where nothing outside us
Could ever divide us again.
Now that the blistering winter has passed
Your skin’s probably white as the snow
And all of the things that I cut down last spring
Are stubbornly starting to grow.
And I sit at my window alone
And I watch other boys come and go
And you barely open the blinds,
As if to remind me
to put this behind me
But every now and again
You might pretend you’re my friend
When all those prying eyes disappear,
When it’s just me and you
And you give me a view of the past.