I
.
s
t
i
l
l
.
remember
.
t
h
e
.
turning
.
o
f
.
the
turn . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ the
yearning
.
o
f
.
the
yearn . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
it
hurts . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
f
o
r
–
–
–
even
.
a
s
.
one,
.
o
u
r
.
hearts
.
h
a
v
e
.
parted,
.
.
a
n
d
.
.
we
.
c
a
n
.
never
return
.
t
o
.
the
way
–
–
things
started . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
w
h
e
n
–
–
–
we
.
h
a
d
.
breathless
pages
.
y
e
t
.
to
discover,
.
.
a
n
d
.
.
so
feverishly
wished
.
f
o
r
.
none
.
b
u
t
.
each
other . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
At
first
.
t
h
e
.
curse
was
.
t
h
e
.
yearning
turn . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
b
u
t
–
–
–
later
became
.
t
h
e
.
turning
yearn . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ the
yearning
turn
.
f
o
r
.
something
more . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ the
turning
yearn
.
f
o
r
.
the
days
.
o
f
.
before . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ the
turning
yearn
.
f
o
r
.
the
days
.
o
f
.
before . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
it
hurts . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
s
o
–
–
–
we
.
c
a
n
.
never
return
.
t
o
.
the
way
–
–
things
started,
.
.
w
h
e
n
.
.
eager
hearts
thundered
.
d
o
w
n
.
the
runways
charted . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
it
hurts . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
It
hurts
because
.
w
e
.
will
never
laugh,
–
–
dance,
–
–
frolic,
.
o
r
.
play,
.
.
t
h
e
.
.
way
.
w
e
.
did
.
i
n
.
those
days . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
the
sun
.
w
i
l
l
.
solely
remain
.
i
n
.
that
place . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
never
shine
.
t
h
a
t
.
way
again . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ it
.
w
i
l
l
.
never
shine
.
t
h
a
t
.
way
again . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
s
o
–
–
–
I
turn
away . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
turn
away . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
Today
.
w
e
.
share
.
t
h
e
.
hours
–
–
which
remain,
.
.
b
u
t
.
.
it’s
not
.
t
h
e
.
same . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ no,
it’s
.
n
o
t
.
the
same . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
s
o
–
–
–
I
search
.
f
o
r
.
that
place . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
search
.
f
o
r
.
that
place . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
search
.
f
o
r
.
that
place . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
where
forevers
.
s
o
.
warmly
embraced,
–
–
before
.
t
h
e
.
change . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ before
.
t
h
e
.
change,
–
–
when
.
t
h
e
.
bet
.
w
a
s
.
placed,
.
t
o
.
gamble
away
.
t
h
e
.
golden
grace,
.
.
o
f
.
.
a
.
young
romance
.
i
n
.
a
dance
.
s
t
i
l
l
.
dancing,
–
–
within
.
a
.
daydream
trance . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ a
dance
.
s
t
i
l
l
.
dancing,
–
–
within
a
.
daydream
trance . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
.
s
t
i
l
l
.
remember
.
t
h
e
.
turning
.
o
f
.
the
turn . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ the
yearning
.
o
f
.
the
yearn . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
it
hurts.
Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in August of 2016 where the contemplator is haunted by, and looks back with, heavy regret on a wonderful romance had in the past – where some kind of change happened or was introduced at some point. And once that change occurred, the romance never had the same magic, warmth, passion, or luster ever again. The contemplator repeatedly revisits and, with a heavy heart, longs to go back and do something different so the change never happens – but there is no going back, and nothing can be done because the damage was done, and the change is now permanent. This was the first of three poems I wrote that were largely inspired by the movie: “Holding the Man.” I actually hated the title of this movie, but thought it was an excellent movie overall.