What is it about this moment
that makes me want to hang these words on you,
just so that I can peel them away later?
Why is it that when I look at you I see infinity-
the endless stars in your eyes
with the dark of night, stolen, to be the center?
It is in this moment –
this one that is passing
as I am writing
that I know that it is you.
It is you that makes this moment
and every moment,
like sand slipping through my fingers,
and when my hand is empty
it is you that makes me
dip it into the sand again
just to hold you one more time.