We met under the sole

tree painted on your paper

I was behind the tree sketched

with lines of blue ball point pen

Your tree looked heavy with leaves

Mine was just a thin angular face

Your tree flowered this spring

Covering my flattered head

Fragrance demands my absent body

My body is shy ,unlike my proud head

Don’t steal her modest garments

Paint her a veil ,in hues of your choice…..

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