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.