Something
in my
moments
is always
you,

the spirit
that you
carry,

the perfect
stranger
that you
are.

a gift
of youth
to see
you in
my weary
day.

always
in balance
full of
life,

with love
rising
from your
lips for
your
lover to
take
and harvest
full,

in the
mornings
baptism
when you
first awake.

where
to those

of us

that live

without you
lie in far
lesser
moments,

in the
lives that
we live.

heads
barely
above
water
straining
to catch
our breath,

straining
to catch
a view

of you.