Just-full: a plump balloon.
Breathe in, breathe out.
This basic exchange:
palms touch, and
that’s how things happen.
But what makes the jump?
What takes a risky leap across
this rift of friendship?
We’ve forgotten
muscles in the face.
We’ve forgotten
which fingers.
The leap back to here.
Pulling up all the moss
that’s started to grow,
as the mind lets go.
Rolling the thread back
onto the spool.
No, it’s not
so neat:
it’s tilting
the table to dump
all the dishes,
and now
the table is clean.