You raise your cup without looking
assured I will receive it.
This gesture says it all,
how we are together
with no need to tear things down,
to feed the beast of not belonging.
Some days the tide runs deep,
highs and lows much greater.
They say it is the moon
but I wonder about swirling water
and the desire pulling it toward the sea.
The tide runs so swift, perhaps
we too can be without restraint,
the moon of our gravitation
the touch of your hand
on a teacup.