of the mountain peaks and
lofty wave crests, even in the
troughs you rest, for the stars
find  y o u  in the deepest pits
where you come to lay my parts
to bed and the pines they bend in
your  w a k e  like blades of grass
beneath my feet, so should the
salt settle in oceans deep
just so they could meet
your lips,  then would
my thoughts gather in
a heap, a group of
injury, fresh and
raw, find me
find me
find me.