Count on it:

A single touch
From you
And I become the water,
Dusky, musky, and elusive,
In the predawn purple of dreams

As a muskrat,

Determined and alone,
Singular and silent,

Draws a line
From one end of the pond
To the other,

Sending shivers through the water
That echo like kisses on the
Soft and eager earth
On the edge.

Where does he go? Why?
These questions have
Nothing to do with me.

On the edge,
I am the eager earth.
I am the water.

Count on it:

A single touch
Is enough.
I shiver.