Still Remaking

Hurried into your clothes
i quietly broke
between your sharp hips and fingertips
swirling in the half light
just before the bend

and if you know
(though i doubt you do)
the hurried up past before we flew
was all i had
and all i knew

in smothered moments
too shallow to swim through
all you stole from me
when i begged you to

we were the shameful tolerance
of my sincerity
i remember only
because i have nothing better
than scraped knees and shaking
still remaking
the sense you never.