Tears don’t swallow me whole anymore. They just kiss me
the way you do. Salt lingers on my skin
for a while. Then gone,
the way of waves, once they’ve met
the shore
a few times, and retreat
to the sea.
And the shore is uncertain. Bleached grains of sand
plead to be taken back, to the depths,
where they can’t be seen. Nothing is sure
any wave
could crash, will crash, who is to say
any thing will last,
any way.
But you brush your hand past mine and your
fingers find passage between mine and I
run my hand down your arm and my
hair falls in your face and you
push it back so we
can soak in each other’s stare
one more time can’t you
feel that / we don’t need more / this is enough.
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