Notre Dame and Other Lost Causes

It burns deep down all the things you wished you could have seen before they disappeared

 It burns
deep down
all the things
you wished you could have seen
before they disappeared
in ashes
in smoke
in cultural shifts
in life changes.
 
Like her naked skin
against his.
Her tenderness against
his vulnerability.
Like his hands on her hips
with his body up against her back.
You miss those little insignificant occurrences.
Like a joke between two people
that only those two people actually get.
 
Then the steeple collapses.
I am left staring at the wreckage
of a church—a person—I never got to visit.
Standing under a window
singing a lonesome song
being a girl—no--a woman
I never got to be.