Undertow (Pulling) 08/18/88

I touch the small of your back
Your sigh rises to me
As stars rise at night
already there
but seeming to rise anyway

I touch the crevasse between
Your eternal shoulder blades
Your moan jumps to me
as the inevitable moan
(it can't be stopped)
of clouds smashing against each other

I touch the shoreline of your hair
Waves of hair, rushing against my cocoon
As the undertow of your lips
(they pull me and pull me)
(towards you)
Washes away my bitter fear
And destroys walls of self-importance

I touch these pulling lips
With fingertips of spent ink
And contained emotion -
Let forth by your healing skin -
(here and now will stop)
(This is important)
(This is important)
My soul reaches for your pulling lips
And finds salvation