The Waiting Exile

And if you took my handOn an autumnal evening in a promenade, On a Thursday at the stroke of 11 And you told me "let's go" And we left this wilderness together I would not give it a second thought Because I was waiting in exile And my heart was a hungry furnace Because you were the country I longed for Your hair the wildfire that consumed my hands Your shoulders the valleys of my longing Your navel the center of the earth Your voice he nightingale from Italy Your back the sea of my promises Your hands the shores of my tears And your eyes were the dark planets that guided me home Home to the island of your embrace To you, friend, and more