Her Protestations Notwithstanding

You deny that I have the keys for all of your locks
but close your eyes and remember the feel of it:

My lips on your ankle.

Is there any door of yours I cannot open?

How about all those times you've looked at me,
And then the times when you couldn't look at all?
You know those moments, as well as I do--
Your protestations notwithstanding,
You gave yourself into them the same--
As you give yourself in other ways, sometimes, still.

You know those moments, not as well as I do--
Moments I couldn't forget, or forgive myself if I did--
When you turned your head or turned your eyes,
Put your hands on your hips and rolled to one foot,
And had a smile find its way to your lips,
With a question asked less innocent than not.

You know those moments, not as well as me,
Because as you told me before, this can't be,
And what you said before, you can’t say anymore,
And what happened before, can't happen anymore,
Or be remembered, at least by you, or
Be told to you, at least by me.

I remember all your smiles, you know,
And store each one away. Some I write down,
And keep others near. Most aren't mine--
Or ours--to be shared, which I find I forget,
Which I hope you’ll forgive, as I remember them only
When remembering you.

I remember you still--but think I ought not--
Before you had told me, no--we should not.
It's just as it's said: “Nothing good seems to last”--
It pains me the same to see you leaving so fast.
But you don't know that, not as I do--
You never will--I can never remind you.