Drink the Lethe

And I can’t speak out your name,
it is lidded, sealed, locked away.
You’re here, you’re there.
How can I know just where you are
and find you everywhere?
Reminded every day,
knowing that a chance to forget
would be met, should it be taken,
with regret.
Drink the Lethe, I don’t care,
plenty of other rivers know our names.

P. F. Marún Oxenford