It was a fine night, just 
Music flowed as easily as tears do and
We swayed like weeping willows we 
Let songs unwind slowly
Didn’t care about that beat or catchy hooks
Didn’t even care about words
We just swayed to the sound of something happening
Waited inside of now
This was the only religion some of us will ever need 
Singer walked on water, a sea of hands 
When he dove, we held up palms to catch him
He had faith in the crest of our fingers 
We closed the spaces between strangers 
Anonymity is part of the night but     
I met a boy named Ian
Who admitted that we’d probably never see each other again
We only existed here 
Here is the only place that exists
It was a fine night
Just finite 
After the concert ended, the silence left us shaking so hard we held anyone who came close
Like Europeans, we kissed people we’d just met
I was covered in someone else’s sweat and it seemed
We had all taken a sip from the same gorgeous volcano
Had the same lava running through our veins
We were blood now
The same history written in our genes
It was one fine night
Just finite
Poet tries to revive it, literary CPR with past-tense verbs
But this is a crime
Like fine china, memory fades the more you polish it
So I could keep probing past-tense passions but they will never shine as brightly as that night
Even though I might taste salty air
Hazy thick and perfumed with weed
Even though I might dance and remember stumbling
With a whole crowd to catch me in the crook of its elbow
Is will never be was
I have this bad habit of trying to hold on to good things
Eating leftovers, swallowing nostalgia, but
I have lived inside of now just before it dies
Drinking in the unrepeatable
If the present wants to keep luring me into these one-night stands
Then I will taste each moment 
Even though tomorrow, I won’t remember burning my tongue