We can never go back, never return.
You smile as you scoop sangria from the bowl,
finger my albums’ battered covers.
We can’t recall what it is to know
and not know.
Curtains around the bed make cataracts
of light, mist of morning. The dip
your side of the bed we both ignore.
And I believe in your youth:
the way your hip curves lifts my heart,
it covers me.
The streets are out there still,
more respectable, wealth poured into pools,
piled into garages. Schools
are recruiting blithe children, the hills
behind the town are blue, the ocean
And you in my chair, rocking, poised
in your infinity, that sudden smile
of yours flickering like firelight
as you hold out your smooth arms,
of my desire