I suddenly thought what I was there for
was to see the best of all possible worlds –
for not playing safe,
for staying true to myself,
to be persistent to the point of absurdity,
if a line is once recited you cannot go back and do it over.
Once I’ve landed kisses onto your hands, I won’t erase them
from my lips,
your hands told me things
you wouldn’t tell me in ages,
your hands shook my heart,
they were examining my patience.
When I see them
I am momentarily at a loss
for the right word,
short-breathed and cannot swallow
when there is no prospect
of seeing your hands,
when they are further from me than summer,
when they have trouble to take me as a reliable
your hands are a vast country
that I am homesick for.