by Ryan Stone
The first, hard puffs of Marlboro smoke
in lengthening summer shadows
were drawn beneath worn arches
down where the river narrows.
Her name he carved beside his own,
in a lover's heart enclosed;
remembered broken promises
and sentences imposed.
She wandered down as summer waned,
Forget-Me-Nots through dark-hair braided.
Secluded by shadows, he breathed her name
while twilight bled and faded.
Beneath the old bridge, hidden from light,
he stole something never surrendered.
On filthy banks, in mud and squalor,
untold, a young tale ended.