I wonder if you’ve told your mother
[down on your knees screaming about]
how your fingers found their way back to the path of my spine
[that had long been forgotten]
how I screamed with joy and how
you pulled me toward you when
I wasn’t looking and
our lips met
like old friends
pushing and pulling like
the waves
crashing into each other against
our legs struggling to keep our balance against
nature and this type of bliss

[we fell back into our pattern of love and still left too far in the bliss to ask now what].