I see in you what worries me about myself;
reflecting in your eyes my shadows seem to grow
in this evening light, the lighthouse not yet burning
although I have no other way to know the end,
I watch you place the books we read back on the shelf.
We need not knowing what might happen next, right now
the fire is about to start, we need no talk.
I feel your hands touching my face, you show me how
our story has no end. We are one movement, slow,
familiar trust, closing our eyes. We understand.