The weather turnend
on
the night we ended
a memory lost beneath the sea
forgotten and insignificant
until
remembered by historians of love
asking why
always why
we never ask the questions
while we make love
only when it’s over
as the archeologists excavate our bed
looking for clues to why we left
our harbor
into the November storm that broke us
made us two from one
as the chilling rains fell
while the sleet froze on our naked bodies
as we felt the waves of dereliction
while the lights went out
on
love
relationships
and
sunken ships
