You can't?
Not Budapest? My heartbeat beneath your ear, Joe's heartbeat beneath mine?
Nature was too strong for us, we said. (Life is hard but permanent.)
The fog held you as close as I wanted you to hold me. We fought it
off with a bottle of Moskovskaya or three.
The Blue Danube tried unfailingly not to move. And failed.
But if I'm honest, it was more gray than blue.
Do you remember now?