if in the frailty of knowing
you know me, then i
be the shore of Queensland and you,
moistened sun, make my water dance
in gold and purple sounds.


i, you, animate,
intimate,
who tremble in the other's hold,
make known extremities of breath,
yet,
we continue to gloat o'er seas of existence.


we mysterious,
our words, how a phrase scars a cheek,
-- such words cast to the waters
do not sink but turn into white flying doves!

no dry land...


i, you, stand still and silent,
while we both are here and apart,
with a thousand languages,
i love you.