The times you live for me catch us by surprise
completing a circuit of uncertainty
stemmed in the pleasure of touching the other.
The body isn't everything but
it's a lot, enough to ignore or worship.
Sometimes it's hard to talk because there isn't
anything to say so we shut ourselves
into a gaze wide open as the longing
born in the frantic corridors of the self.
Some would call it pathetic. Hedonist!
sneered out of jealousy, never confronting
the spinning worlds of a lover's breath
as motion betrays meaning with a kiss.
But as long as I live I have found you.