W.T.

On the shores of roped-off swimming spots
I remember you from all the pens I never collected
the contrast from the blue houses
Complimenting the white trim
I write in red tint
Now more honorable, more informed

I could have been
On those still nights
Beautiful with you

I never healed from that October
Always cold, not quite frozen
Melting from your pink hair

I ran ahead
Into the shadow unknowing
Loneliness becoming
Written sensual unseen by you

I found out who I was
But you'll never know
you left the lost roads
Stapling images to trees
From backpacks full
Addresses broken
Someone else has your name
I left mine alone
She kept driving
We left our bathing suits at home

Morning still, this
Filling in blanks
No closure, unresolved, this.