At first we staggered and swayed
under the drowsy moonlight,
for what seemed like days
for what melted like weeks
and dreamt like years.

Our trajectory was sufficiently lit,
so we should not trip,
but left us with no idea
where our path would end

The adroit movement of your hand
intertwining mine,
with our fingers laced
urging the palms to read
each other ,
was enough to invite
time to stand still, and secrete

this was the moment was where I was born

and where I should die.