Twenty five years ago
we’d been separated for three months
and I was considering
however faintly
a life without you.

I still had dreams of you
far too often
at the time
and thought
with the right opportunity
we might renew our love
(Perhaps that opportunity might require
the same alchemy of alcohol and shame
that connected us at first).

It didn’t happen
as you well know
but we remained civil
as you found partners better suited for you
and I found my own comfort
in solitude.

When you moved away
I coincidentally left, too,
finding myself both far away
and distant
from you.

We didn’t talk for so many years
but now
newer technologies have made it child’s play
to think of you again
though apparently
not enough
to remember,
at the time,
the twenty fifth anniversary of our breakup
or the start of our relationship
two months before.