Walking on water past midnight

There’s a familiar longing tonight;

For a lover trapped in the glass figures of my mind.

A longing for a time as old as my memory.

I think about my old lover

as I sleep next to a strange man

a small room in a mediterranean setting

an old camera gathering dust on a dirty shelf

stale cigarettes and the smell of musk

take me to him;

my old lover.

Even if only for a fleeting moment,

I remember my old man’s untidy balcony

and how both of us fit in perfectly.

I remember how close our hands were

and how it took him an hour to hold them

like love to us was

only to watch the clouds settle

in the sky.

I don’t remember the face of my lover anymore

I remember only the love

I remember how it made me feel

I remember it was the kind

that made time stop still

like floating on water

past midnight.

I remember my old love, now;

only past midnight.