The arc completes this month this day
Twenty two years measured at full moons.
The bedroom window that year overlooked
Shiny snow under a streetlight. His arms
left like the forever harbor for me and the
one who was to be ours. No snow this year
this time only the soft thrum of cold rain
We sleep through the night dreams scudding
in and out. His arms are the forever harbor
There is no one that is or will be ours.
I know this on the twenty second day.
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