Memory of You
Here’s to what could have happened many warm nights ago, in high rain. My older love over, living out his last days in Rome— here’s to the missing hat, the returned hat, nevermind: your slight, the deeper station, your long missing eyes, the shade of them, the young sleepers. Here’s to what did happen, your followed arrow song, followed and following, farther and further into a telescop- ic here’s what might happen— open your swallowing factor, your better news, tongue hanging over teeth, touching the lip, barely, on the bottom, the stream of a funnel of air, suck- ing in the breeze, the waft of me, bruised eye, mercy-breathing, sold-out body, hit-hard armature, my bad credit, debts and allegations. Take in the walking foot, the one, the last stance.