Mobius
Watching you, I see a bridge
Across an empty, skyful blue,
Beyond the breaking, unknown ridge,
Mosaic, mirrored you;
And every tile a memory
Of yet-to-you, and yet-to-me,
And yet-to, yet-to, yet-to-yet
That stretches back before we met
Then carries on; and once mundane
The past is given us again;
Together we grow young, erasing
All that had gone wrong, till lazing
By the pond, beneath the sky,
Are little you and little I.