So this is how it’s done,
this laughing together
that anneals, that heals and works
a miracle—no, a hundred miracles,
and makes such heat, burning
through the husk of habit
and of time, some dream
recalled, not in repose
but in the light
of a thousand suns.
And what can bloom
in such a landscape?
Everything:
the glint of your teeth
in the close and friendly dark,
the warm spice of your breath,
your skin, your eyes, your hands,
my eyes and hands opening,
mouth arms legs opening
wide in the body’s warmest smile.
Laughing, and together,
we are reaching,
blind, to find
the lines and limits
of the love
this laughing makes.