the moon pulls on the water
no more insistently
than the empty air
tugs at my flesh
where it falters your absence
spreads about the surface of my skin
lost to the touch of your fingers lightly exploring
pressing home their willingness into my nerves
and deep into my heart lost
to the laughter that only love
can bring with sanctity to every single breath

no pool, no lake, no ocean
could pull the moon from its ring in the sky
whose the power to choose
the laughter that your fingers bring to my nerves
the sanctity your touch brings to my skin
the pulse of life, the breath of love
that only you bring to my faltering heart

1990
for lori