After the first astounding rush, br after the weeks at the lake, br the crystal, the clouds, the water lapping the rocks, br the snow breaking under our boots like skin, br & the long mornings in bed. . . br br After the tangos in the kitchen, br & our eyes fixed on each other at dinner, br as if we would eat with our lids, br as if we would swallow each other. . . br br I find you still br here beside me in bed, br (while my pen scratches the pad br & your skin glows as you read) br & my whole life so mellowed & changed br br that at times I cannot remember br the crimp in my heart that brought me to you, br the pain of a marriage like an old ache, br a husband like an arthritic knuckle. br br Here, living with you, br love is still the only subject that matters. br I open to you like a flowering wound, br or a trough in the sea filled with dreaming fish, br or a steaming chasm of earth br split by a major quake. br br You changed the topography. br Where valleys were, br there are now mountains. br Where deserts were, br there now are seas. br br We rub each other, br but we do not wear away. br br The sand gets finer br & our skins turn silk.