Quietly sinking

I saw you,
your hands
quilted in shade.
Shaky
but clasping
a bottle of beer.

There was something
so defining
and desperate,
in your touch.
All pre-positioned
delicance,
dissolved in the
reflection of
your glass.

And I always
think of you,
when it rains.
And the water buries
itself in puddles.
Quietly sinking.