That silence we fell into

I kept thinking of that silence we fell into,
sometime after the shower, it seemed the last,
when every touch was wanting more, denied
and every time we held
          each other, we held on
time; and of, when I held you then, so
close, looking over your shoulder, as we were
dressed and standing by your suitcase by the door
looking back on that great broad bed,
its white sheets tumbled, broken into Alps—
and I've been thinking too about the way, then,
we moved away so quick,
          and the way
I could say nothing; and neither could you—

that silence that we let ourselves fall into—

so that now, we can break it again.