I find you between the lines,
when the sky is mercury
and the world slows to a halt.

in these moments
       (listen--the ocean is silent)
we whisper, crashing

in and out of starry tenderness,
hurricane youth. and
I find you between the lines

where our bodies fade into one another,
where hand meets hand meets
earth: there is something about

windy mornings, tacit eternities
and the way your fingers
             find escape in my hair.