loverofbeauty

*

 
We were lovers for a month.
Then he went away to work, I think in Smyrna,
and we never met again.
 
Those gray eyes will have lost their beauty—if he’s still alive;
that lovely face will have spoiled.
 
Memory, keep them the way they were.
And, memory, whatever of that love you can bring back,
whatever you can, bring back tonight.

- C.P. Cavafy