My love crosses fields
on a train heading far east,
my book on his lap.
I forget what happened
in The Temple of the Golden Pavilion. Something
was lost, or not attained.
Someone died trying.
Across a table, A. describes a film
to D., her mother: the newly dead
must choose a memory to live in for eternity.
They inhabit private rooms
in a dorm of indecision.