trying to hold back against the inevitable giving up.

we had hand-made daisy chain crowns;
rolled up pant legs, burnished skin,
that the driving sun brought out.
i felt romance, memorable for its ease,
yet unforgivingly temporal.

in the spring, we were reborn.

i gravitate toward your body,
a pressure that never ends;
unfolding, like that water lilies at the lake,
we are removed from idiosyncratic personalities,
subject simply to the movement.

in the night, we sleep soundly together.