(Title?)

"I say I won't forget,
but that is
a lie."
I will forget that the rings
and your fingers
moved with the displacement
of water and sound.
And I will forget the paper-
thin leaves, with cobwebs
cracked into their stems,
waving over and saying,
"I can help.
Reach out your cobweb fingers."
when you did,
you pulled down the roots
of the merry weeds and flowers
had thrown out.
I'll forget you sank
to where your face was a rock
obscured in the silt.
And I'll remember
your blue lips
when we lifted you out
into the breathing violet fields
and the spider webs filled with dew
drops dripping off the dusty millers.