poem 4: when we met
cold ramp of tarmac, February
Arcade bar, gone forever
known simply as the place I first held you
in my arms, drank the sparkle
of your eyes like Erasmus' fire
glimming on a night horizon as if far away gravity had
gathered two giants together,
this confluence aflame, a beacon in space to outlast all.
On beaches, in houses, up and down the streets of our life
I picture this light outlasting
the tide, our bodies, our very memory. In loving you
I give all of me, all my time
forever more.