I find you in the second half of a song
when it turns around and realizes itself, naked
and not afraid, I find you in an overgrown Jade plant
and hear you assessing the sunlight, I find you in the quivering orb
a grandmother feels when she does Tai Chi in the park
or a baby sees around a lit candle
I find you gravitating towards the lonely football in a yard
and burying your head in a blooming lilac
sometimes I find you in the absence of creaking wood
because I miss you, in here, walking
I see in your eyes the knowing
of deep-sea creatures, who, immersed in dark,
become bioluminescent
I remember you in cheap olive oil
and digging coffee grinds out of the drain
I feel you
the way the moon never touches the earth
I feel you the way
a barren woman searches her womb
for two heart beats.