from the sea comes
not only the ceaseless fury
of waves  embracing stone:
from its deep where secrets lie
to the source and color of the sky,
one can wade, stroke and swim
to come to its shifting sands
virginal for four feet and four hands.

i have been here, and you there:
the days between us shuffled like cards.
perhaps fate will deal us a full house:
a pair with a heart and a trio of aces
for the words we ached yet stilled
our tongues to shape and caress.

wiser in the fictions of affections,
we proclaim the distance as breadth
where we shall sow the promise
for the season of toil and harvest.