I start to learn the length and breadth of you,
and every day I like a little more
the message in your deep caress, and through
your stroke a stretch I haven’t known before.
You hold my neck with fingers column-thick
and pin me like a moth in your embrace.
We dance all night without our feet, and knit
a web more intricate than antique lace.

And isn’t it a miracle of luck
that we could meet and also recognize
a probable companion? Are you struck
as much as I with powerful surprise
that I can measure as you measure me
and we can lay in fitting harmony?