our feet
are grape-squashed in memories

our skins are still flushed
from the touch
of summer’s lips.

we always knew
that good times came
with termination contracts
even if we weren't quite ready
to sign it.

I realized

June had never been
just a month

music...
never just a tremble
on my lips

warmth was never
merely a blanket.

some winters
will never melt

some summers
will never freeze

and some things will only
... live in poems.

...and so many colors
I will have seen...
the menacing greys
and pine greens
the soft pink and purples
of spring
and summer blue
and so many others
without you.

love
wounds me
with soft pillows
with tender lips
and fingers