maybe you’re still finding the limits of your love
tracing what you think might be its hard perimeter
the way you still feel for eachothers edges
sometimes losing track of where one ends and the other begins
perhaps you’re still afraid of somehow slipping off
but it only matters that you laugh at yourselves later
at how you tapped a toe out blindly in each direction
only to find there was no wall no step no trap
a house of endless open rooms of light
maybe you’re still finding the best way to hold hands
considering the lengths of two arms swinging forward through space
is it palm to palm or fingers laced
perhaps sometimes in reaching for each other you will fumble
or have to pull apart to wipe away what forms
between two pulsing and imperfect beings
but it only matters that you’re patient
with the dance of hands until they find a way to fit together
let them recall the churches that you made as children
the steeple and all of the people
ever patiently waiting in witness
maybe you're still finding the right words to describe a sunset
perhaps you don’t even agree whether its end of day
or beginning of night
but either way the woven edge of light
will continue to fray into darkness
what matters is that you both see beauty perched on the horizon
and are speechless except to ask aloud
do you see this?
and hear back always
I do.
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