Non Redibimus

          and summer day, nor to the waylaid place

where you laid waste to me and I to you,

          and where we reminisced recalling who

did what to whom. We shall not come again.

          Not to the bed we thrashed nor to the memory

of the way I brushed my hair back, nights,

          nor to the air we dared to share to breathe,

or couldn’t quite. We shall not come again.

          No more, my face seen round your corner, or

your briefcase found beneath my table. We

          weren’t able, apt or sane. We shall not come

again. Nor cry nor clutch, not even once

          again. We shall not cover up in quilts

or bear the beast of one another’s guilts

          or sit in silences made saddest by

what was. We shall not come again. Because.