You trace the
stretch marks on my hips
with your fingertips
silently challenging me with your eyes to
keep still.
I have not the concentration or the will,
and my fingers
find their way into your hair,
pulling you closer
and closer to me.

Until

the only distance between us
is the invisible ocean dividing
our souls from one another,
A distance that cannot be crossed by a simple
mingling of breaths.

And yet, we persist in these attempts,
too stubborn to admit that we are both
beginning to tire of swimming.