Annie Finch

Then are you the dense everywhere that moves, The dark matter they haven’t yet walked through? No, I’m not. I’m just the shining sun, Sometimes covered up by the darkness. But in your beauty-yes,

names, silence-quietest minutes (building like rain or returning like seas) Since they have touched me, your warm hands have sown Gentlest sounds, touches and hours (or, building like rain, turning, like seas) (building like