Let us meet down by the Seine—
I'll get there first and look for you.
In water's window, there I can
with focused eyes discern your face
(you visit from some other place)
the way that homesick people do.
I brush your wet cheek with my hand
and circles spread, your likeness fades.
But you have wakened up this land
with water drops on fingertips.
We travel an unrehearsed trip,
a watercourse with tides and waves.
And like a river ever flows
until it empties in the sea,
now I will breathe and walk and know
only what the living do.
Light fills street lamps,
day turns to night,
and I will keep you with me.