I look for uncomplicated peace in ocean and sand,
afraid of the kind of candor you draw
from me, my cowardly deep-sea regime.
With easy honesty I make utterances ugly and necessary
to my being, a kind of nakedness I never attempted
in the privacy of myself.
Looking at your back darkened by the sun
faithfully pouring into the water in front of us,
I think desire is the wrong word
and love too plain, devotion too sacred.
My whole life, I think, I will use for describing you.
What do I know outside of words, which despite their history
and combinations are too few and short for this life.
I don’t know if I want heaven,
but I know I want to be
where you go—
in sand, water, every possible animal form.
