In the flawless architecture of childhood beauty
In the map the shows the roads of where I have been
Innocence the uncharted path.
She has yet to carry the history of time gone by in different speeds.
Her face, just beginning
Mine, marked by all the faces
I have been.
Time has not left its mark on her.
And here we are.
Two lives touching
I want to stay here in the unguarded gaze.
I look at her little face besides my own
and feel the strange tenderness
of being both the past
and the person who gets to watch
the path unfold.
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