a shell of who i use to be

in the delicate street glow
at the end of your block
is the cemetery where
i realized i would love you
beyond that minute, and
our first kiss lingered on
in my memory as nothing
but a hardwood floor in Maine.

and someday i'll be in a cemetery
at the end of a block, and someone
will stand above me and realize
there is another someone they
will love beyond that minute.

and maybe nothing matters
and maybe nothing ever will.