I and you move together silently,
landscape lost within words.
Quietly we turn the final corner
where the rain falls less harshly
and the wind waltzes with ripped
newspaper, turning the damp script
over and over, up like a bird.
First touch is where we met, fingers
interlacing like a cat’s cradle.
I am lowered down to your lips,
Where I rest.
Breathing you inhaling me.
Lying with you we are cut out from
the wound of the world
and we dance suspended.
Our eyes lost inside of us,
searching out the steps of our first dance
that one we never learnt,
that one without music.
Slow silence re-joins us,
our hands holding us apart
and our dance becomes a memory
we remember together,
sharing the making of more as
I need your eyes before mine,
keeping you so close to me, your
words keeping you so close to me, your
words taking us, you and I, off
into our dance.
