The waters edge I did not stand beside at sunset
My eyes yearn
for the water's edge I did not
stand beside at sunset
as the world was changing
and ever more the same.
For the lightest of footprints
I did not leave in the sand
on my way there or back.
My mouth longs
for the coffee I did not
drink in the morning light
after a night spent
confusing the present with eternity.
For the long hands and lowered eyes
of the waiter who did not set my cup
so gently down.
My heart aches
for the city I did not
love in summer
the endless tangle of its history
playing out across clattering stone streets.
For the maps that did not show me the way
to the memories that were never made.