"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.