Tonight the rain sounds steadily
curved in sheltering arc
over my world -
tonight I know
that you and I will never be lovers -
that dream of a cold northern lake
will never be more real
than it is now.
Memories of future equal recollection
of events once solid,
now tenuous and remote -
that water touches my body now,
lacking only fulfillment,
and to the memory of my awkward kisses
I add fictitious images
of the taste and smell of love. 
Such an easy step -
why weep on such a peaceful night?
Earth will do your weeping for you -
please
let the rain continue its gentle fall
over roof and sky and night -
such small significance,
such a very small matter.