Hiking a Mountain near Home

I wish I had a mouth
to hold my voice but
there are no words in a kiss:

it’s so normal
I come apart,
the entirety of me
dividing the volume—

Can I be this couple
falling in love; we breathe air
from the cliff and look down
on our valley.

Sometimes I think this mountain is a whale
and we live inside his stomach.

Where do these words exist?
I’ve fallen from your arms into
the color of trees; the sound of the mountain
has stopped. I find life

in the vacancy of touch
where the loneliness in you is me.
There is nothing to comprehend—

this is the closest I come from you.