Boundless

Our lips broke away
with a crisp sound
akin to an egg
cracking in your fingers 

on the lip of a bowl.

Your noble shell
engulfs my scattered sun.
Hands hold the both of us -
your serrated halves,
my could’ve-been.

Love is porous sometimes.
I am filled one moment,
then you, then me, then you.

My love, boundless egg,
we were poured into the same heat,
became separately.

But look,
now, here, somehow,
we are one sky
with two suns.

poem - March 2014