I fall like the
sun onto yellow straw
and then, in the abandoned loft, into you.
In the morning we walk through green grass
to the stream that flows into a tributary of rivers
and the clear liquid gravity that you spin
On the wide ocean under the nude sky
I lie upon the swell that is your breast.
Seven times seventy times around the globe
the current bears me wide and warm,
and I only wish to drink in more,
the tidal pull of your eyes bringing me
as I fall into you, fall into you.