FOR A TIME

Rusted melancholy,

distilled by the upper most light,

hitting the mildew on roof tops,

memories of you,

we were young weren't we,

embraced in a kiss,

I could see straight through to the other shore,

when I was in your arms.

Time meant nothing,

cynicism was not yet ripe,

our curiosities were green,

in a sense,

and in another sense not,

we were in the august of youth,

alive,

vital,

visceral,

together,

for a time.