I think I was searching for treasures or stones
in the clearest of pools
when your face …

when your face,
like the moon in a well
where I might wish …

might well wish
for the iced fire of your kiss;
only on water my lips, where your face …

where your face was reflected, lovely,
not really there when I turned
to look behind at the emptying air …

the emptying air.

- Carol Ann Duffy