of flux and change, the edge of the wine-dark sea.
You rose before dawn's blossoming had pearled
the sea-grey clouds, yearning for the free
expanse of pure and undistracted thought.
I held you, pleading: keep the discourse here.
Compelled by love, you stayed, and so we sought
to build our city of words between the dear
distractions: sippy-cups, reflux, and change
another diaper. Under brooding night
we'd fall exhausted, chafing at the range
to which we now resigned our minds' poor sight.
Yet in these letters large we found the soul,
written in each part as in the whole.
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