One Last Warm Winter

Do you remember that night 

In the midst of a weeping January winter

When we stood under the Parisian lights 

As we floated along the River Seine?

What begins, can never truly begin again.

Memories are memories, 

Ripples are ripples, 

And what was then, will always be then. 

My love, please forgive me, 

We must accept what we hold in contempt -  

The truth that makes our eyes turn red:

Old lovers can never be friends. 

Do you remember that night, 

In the midst of a weeping January winter, 

When we stood under the Parisian lights 

As we floated along the River Seine?

The frigid cold piercing through the folds of your delicate skin. 

Do you remember talking about our cottage, 

And what we would put in our den.

Asking ourselves: “How soon enough can when, 

No longer be when?” 

My love, please forgive me, 

We must accept what we hold in contempt - 

The truth that makes our eyes turn red:

Old lovers can never be friends. 

And now what was done

In reluctant haste mutates 

Into an eerie, never-ending goodbye. 

And as the days pass me by, 

My adorned Aphrodite, 

My virulent Venus, 

I am sorry to say 

That your sculpted face, 

Is becoming harder and harder 

To recognize. 

As minutes turn into months, 

And warmness turns into frost, 

I behold Time 

As she searches for lives not yet lived, 

And loves - not yet lost. 

But what she cannot find, 

She must eventually condemn, 

As we find ourselves departing 

From that which we thought

We could always depend.

My deity and my devotion,

One that I can no longer defend. 

For what descends, must always descend, 

And what ends, must always end. 

My love, please forgive me. 

We must accept what we hold in contempt - 

The truth that makes our eyes turn red:

Old lovers can never be friends. 

But perhaps what ends

Lies in the space between:

A warm winter, 

Embedded in the embers 

Of endless eternities. 

And suddenly we’re back there, 

Standing under those Parisian lights 

Coated by the cascading cries

Of what we believed to be

A blissful Parisian snow, 

Spiraling down from the only sky

We now only wish,

To have ever known. 

We give the clouds grace

As they begin to subside

And we observe in awe

As the wretched beauty of the night 

Attempts to break through the divide. 

But the snow succumbs to the sadness, 

Becoming wet - and bitter.

Incoming tears from above,

That cause our heart’s chambers, 

To splinter - and wither. 

We look up at the stars  

And try our damndest not to listen 

To their sweet, but sorrowful song,

Telling us that we are twin flames, 

Telling us that we are one, and the same. 

But they won’t tell us why 

We are not allowed

To use Time’s timber 

To stoke our fire, 

To help our love’s dying light 

As it cries out for help

In its effort to rekindle.

My love, please forgive me, 

And I will forgive Her, 

For taking away

All I ever wanted:

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           October 2nd, 2024