Christina Davis (2013)
We kiss on lips, where the tenses attach.
We enter the conundrum
of another's becoming.
We look for someone who can raise us
up again to feet, or near to standing.
We tend in our terrors to forget (we
do not store them) felicities.
I try each day to stay near beings,
mornings when I am most
mild. And may I nothing harm,
in case it might be them.