In Search of Destination

At your touch, in unnatural rhythms...
I lose all control—
every echo of my pulse,
the moment when even my last drop of blood...
drowns in the urgency of kisses.

I touch you with such clarity...
I see—the buried weeping within you...
something settles there so fiercely;
again and again I clutch you close...
force you to see deep into my chest—
the wound that doesn't exist at all.

Without rest, hospitality stretches long...
I stir salt water into your eyes.

Tell me, where are we bound?