Nearly midnight
and traffic still goes on,
people not where
they want to be.
Up to my neck
in fire-warmed water,
my arms arc
the tub’s round rim
and a school’s lights
amber-stain the clouds.
We know by faith
stars burn above them.
Feet gripping the far wall,
I become a shallow cup,
an open parenthesis
in which you lie, half-
floating, half-stretching,
so our bodies declare
again a wordless fidelity.
Snow swirls around u
as we celebrate
our anniversary,
our union and reunion,
our lasting buoyancy.
