"They also serve, who only stand and wait..."

I am waiting for within to join
without. Who is alone
intertwined in you, unable, unwilling to stop
coming, to untangle the urgency
of water--the stitches in his flannel shirt are wedded
to the Virgin of Guadalupe, and our first goodbye is tucked under
a conversation on scales, basted into
the moving darkness of cars--Mexican silver laced to a kiss--
our mouths meet over and over, teaching each other a thick, wet
language--tongues against teeth, submerging,
and escaping words--heart pooling up to lips. Only open again, and we are
bathed in one another--ripple flows into wave--I am movement
waiting. A desert river still seeks the ocean.