"When the crescent divides the dark..."
When the crescent divides the dark -
And the limits approach infinity,
We’ll locate the bench in the park
By instinct, as if by epiphany.
My fingertips pressing on Braille,
Thank God for the sense of touch! –
Each detail – a trail – third rail –
O, how can I love you so much?!
I cannot complete a sentence,
Surprised that I’m still intact.
Each breath is an act of reverence,
Each word is a daring act.
Thus, making love, we’re re-making
Love, making up love anew…
Thus, in the act of me taking
You, I'm retaking myself from you.