Simon Perchik
While the sun spreading out
in the light from your shirt
wrung dry, its cuffs rolled back
–shores are born this way
reaching around, even here
its sleeves are still visible
and in your eyes
that first emptiness
in all directions at once :light
takes forever now
looks for you as if it
was once the only color
and nothing to end the silence
the way each night the galaxies
gather up the darkness
begin the world again
and each morning
rests at the edge, half listening
half in the open
pulling it nearer, loose
and in your arms at last.