When we go to our rest

At the end of the day,

You to yours and I to mine,

With one last kiss, and one brief touch

That sparks the spark

Of remembrance

 And promise,

Statice and snow drops

 By the doorpost we part by,

To other doors,

You to yours and I to mine,

As though our sleep was separate

And not rescinded by the night

Conjoined by dark

Amid the starlight sparks

Of remembrance and promise

Of lotus and rosemary in the morning

Remember the rose too

In the glass

On the counter

By your bed.