I hold a photo, when you smiled and turned Jumped off the boat, you a little sunburned Your trousers wet from the jump to the shore.
I hold a photo, you on the dance floor At Passersby, steaks at Florent, I learned, Moving beyond blame, just how you returned To capture and speak for those lost, postwar.
I hold this image, in it an order To hold still this soul, more stories unclaimed, And race all night, to calm and the border.
I hold your crisis, its ordering framed By a want, by a will, by you, untamed.