On the night of the surrender the moon rose late,
Like a blind insignia
Hovering in the dark.
-----------------------------
A distant radio utters a song that
seems written to be played on the last night of the world;
‘L o v e, o h c a r e l e s s l o v e’,
And nostalgia rips me swinging.

Time passes, unslackening,
Memories spin round in a blur and
Washes onto the shore- derelict, adrift--
Leaving us wondering,
‘ H o w w i l l i t e n d?’

We listen, in pained silence,
As the ocean murmurs - as ever before; beloved, unbinding-
A song about us -beloved, blind -
Leaving us wondering,
‘ H o w c a n i t e n d?’
For now, just promise me this;
You won’t unwish one thing we did, but
Wear them all like beautiful impurities.

Now I hold you, as you lay – sleepless- and the
Raw, naked twilight draws shimmering
Figures on your skin,
Leaving me wondering,
How anything f r a g i l e
s u r v i v e s.

Now I hold you, as you lay – sleepless-
Foreknowing the absence that one day, elsewhere,
You will look up
And missing something,
For a second not know what it is,
And through that heartbeat’s gap,
The manner of love and its bodyweight
-The tide of everything-
Will break like the Pacific Ocean,  
                                                      Up­on
                                                               Your
                              
                                                                ­           Head.