Called by passion, we hold to one another

forever breaking time zones and rules

crushing delusions of mediocrity and

just by holding hands

we pull our fragile hearts from flimsy cases

in order to reveal their splendor

and show the world our true selves

(between us, we share each other)

And the simple act of running my hands

through her hair is enough for me

 to fully understand the way the world works

I connect to the holy, to the impermissible

through her touch, and the sound of her voice

and I know the world, feel the world,

through the light in her eyes.