At times, we were
Statues in a museum gallery -
Crumbling -
I took pieces from you,
And you from me,
But we always felt
Empty-handed; after
La petite mort.

Still, some our days were
Perfect afternoons spent
Swimming in the late,
Or sometimes the river,
When the sun beat down,
In orange boxing gloves,
Melting you and I,
Like butter on toast.

- Jamie F. Nugent