To a new globe of shadowy truth,
we turn off the bedroom light,
puff the softening cloak out first with
our arms, our legs, our stretched-out-naked toes,
our instinctive bliss swelling, and then—
with our spirit! our night! with the spirit of nights
out of our chest, with our laughter! drifting across the
black sea, under black skies, through the
sweet-skin-salted black breeze that flows in the unknowing
black immensity of our comfortably hushed eyes. Like us
now our voices finally float—rafted but enraptured
on soothing water—awaiting, knowing,
the lighted shore we’ll reach tomorrow.