how could they know?
That seems like another life, before we were us, before marriage and family were even discussed.
sommes-nous de la poésie?
it will be one of us, across the room from the other, confident and wondering- ‘how do they know that person?’
lifting words from paper
Rudyard wanted us to wait, and to be lied to, and not to look too good, and be skeptics of truth and our friends.