It is an acquaintance with space --
The placement of surroundings
In relation to yourself.
Wooden floor; feet upon the floor;
Exactly forty-three steps
To your bedroom door, no more.
Reliable inherence in presence;
Learning your every last line.
The distinctions that separate
Fade, melt away -- and what remains:
Limbs intertwined; hands which align
Perfectly with mine.
There is a certain comfort,
Felt yet undefined:
Breath on skin; indistinguishable
Where you stop and I begin
In our non-empty silence.
When the lights go off,
There is unquestioned reassurance --
A sense of home in knowing
That even when blanketed in blackest night,
I know where to find your lips
In the dark.