I remember Heaven when you held me
at the middle of the bridge and
showed me where the river made its bend,
after the Pier K Dock and at the Wallabout Bay, 
some time in Autumn when the Sun went Crimson into Marigold before the Mauve when your stubble grazed my neck;
some single moment of some single place maybe you didn’t know I’d still keep tonight,
with the Vincent Thomas thirty miles away
and your embrace sometime a decade ago.