Time that slides so smoothly, with such ease,
moments can blend without distinction:
There was dancing: In your apartment,
on many dance floors: Seattle. Baltimore. LA.
There is music, and laughter, in your apartment.
Then, years and years of music and laughter.
We spoke of oceans, and I have the memories of many
beaches, many skies, and wave upon wave upon wave—
of waiting for you by the ocean, of being with you
in the ocean, of watching the ocean disappear on your skin,
of traveling to watch the ocean disappear on your skin.
There were, even then, tears and the memory of tears.
You were waking me in the middle of the night
and you told me, then, there was no reason for them now.
Then we were crying together, such loss. Tears will come,
all the tears before them granting comfort in continuity.
The still-shy embraces in my imagination are wild
with all this, with what you always are to me.