There is a moment after it rains
where the sky settles into itself
like the sigh when the sprinter
starts to catch his breath after a run
like the stillness between night and
morning, like the hush when
you finally reach the water
after weaving through brush and hill.
This is how our love feels: nestled
in between sighs and sounds
in the softness of the day ending and beginning
in the delicacy of the light and heavy things
in the gentleness of your hand
when it reaches for my hand.