i remember the cut
on my knee
that God once kissed,
and how it tasted
agonizingly bittersweet:
like the start of time,
the stars exploding
as my wounds closed
up, like fire and rubble
and rock spinning aimlessly
around the great wide galaxy,
and i closed my eyes
and suddenly
i could see stars again
and i could see
You again.

If we
Stepped back far enough,
I bet we could
Fit the Earth
In the far corners of our hand.

If we measured
The heavens just right,
And picked out the exact
Magnitudes, I bet you
We could do it.

Because I know.
Whether we know it or not
The distance between
Our hearts
And the very center
Of the universe
Isn't all that far.

We just
Have to find the right
Measuring tool for it,
And no,
The telescopes,
It won't do this time.

The galaxy we are shooting for,
It exists only
On the pinpricks of our fingers.
Its standard unit
Is that of closeness and
Of vast quiet.

I'll show you.

On the count of three,
I want us both to close our eyes
And whisper.

1...
2...
3.

See there?
There is home.
And you hold it
In my palms.