I Will Remember

Later, when the breath of your eyes has faded
and the blue seas of my heart have stilled,

I will remember what made us:
worlds refracted through grassy dewdrops,

winding switchback dirt paths
under frowning thunderheads,

lakes made in a backyard sandpit
and battles of frozen plastic fought on the shore.

I will remember you and her lying beneath the footbridge
one September day, your cigarettes twin towers

spelling the end of my childhood. I will remember
why you could not forgive yourself,

one night beneath the blue of the stars and the rush
of headlights. I will remember why you left,
and remember why you're wrong, and hope you will return.