One human is complicated enough. Adding another begins
a multifarious network of psychological misgivings, grasps
and piteous doubt.
So allow me to crawl into this connection with the pace
of a snail, feeling every fibre as it changes in my body,
they are deep.
Lately my teeth have begun to curl in, clenched, retreating,
the beacons of my persona, and I fear, and I stress.
Then I breathe,
and I let them unfurl again, like fern leaves unrolling
their green in the sun, to open up and stretch, to receive
and to smile.