forgive me the night i asked you to climb the water tower
with me when i knew you were afraid of heights the winter sky
freckled magnolia blossom white sprawl of treetops

stripped bare their silhouettes slow twisting like bodies
pressed against one another on a dance floor you wanted to know
if i was cold forgive me i said no when i meant i want you

to touch me even now i find bottle caps and aluminum tabs
scattered like seeds beneath the passenger seat forgive me
i throw them away because they remind me of what we could

not cultivate how lonely you must have been
to spend all those nights with me when we drove home
we were quiet i felt you staring forgive me i kept you

a secret from my friends i never knew what i was
to you as the traffic light flared red your long fingers slipped
through mine and surprised me left hand silken cocoon your palm

molded over mine felt whole forgive me four months from this
i do not keep our baby forgive me when this is over and i show up
at your house on a night i cannot live with myself but for now

forgive me that instant when i almost sped into the intersection
distracted by our overlapping hands nestled in the warmth
of my lap when for the briefest moment i forgot what it meant to stop.