On peut pas vivre d’amour et d’eau fraiche

For S

The weight of the rain cripples the name
of a person in a place
you swore never to forget or let
                               the silence
& the songs & the long moments
of hands twisting time with bodies
entwined in nights we wish would never die,
disappear:

but all things move toward their end,

& yet time hasn’t taken us completely,
so there’s no need
                            to forget

even as we
let go of what once was.

Some nights we cannot see the moon,
but during others its
dignified light
repeats the silver nights
precluding those golden mornings we spent
bathing, deluded
& content.