I said, "I love you"
while expecting nothing back,
and I got just that.

Silence, then, "I know."
Meanwhile Cleveland is on fire,
as I hold you close.
~
You ask me to stay,
but your kisses are so short
they fade on contact.

Like butter in a
hot skillet, or water, they're
evaporating.

Yet one is sweet and
the other is so common
it hardly matters.
~
I'm remembering,
the winter we first met, where
I had first kissed you.

Then you disappeared
for three short years or something
pretty close to that.

Reflecting winter,
the sun came up, you started
evaporating.
~
I'm leaving you at
the greyhound station when you
kiss me finally.

The finality
hangs on my lips for so long
it's hardly ended.