Rust (a very first draft)

I used to love her
In her tequila sunset
All ruddy wet blooming
Over our rose bud heaven.
Spilling over the bed
Was her golden hair
Shimmering like a wet pearl.
Below the horizon
I watch her pass person to person
On missed connections
And F train subway cars, but
Past lives defined her, mine,
Lying on my bed
Her back arching
My fingers arching
Arching into her paleness,
Salty and warm.
No one remembers her, meek,
Swimming without ripple
Towards the plastic siding
Of our backyard pool;
My mother cannot remember her name,
Her name so sweet against my tongue
Her name pressing against my throat
Her name clenched against my palm,
I will never let it go.