my wife's back turned to me
as she settles to sleep
shouldn't have meaning
since I'm not 15 anymore
analyzing every movement
and pulling apart flowers
she loves me, she loves me not
but lately
our arguments have been tsunamis
marred by the debris of others' lives
so I've been obsessed with knowing
what everything she does portends
her back
could be a wall
and I'd have to decide
to climb it like a vine
or turn away myself
her back
could be a sign of trust
since you never turn your back
to the enemy
and time has taught her
that I am with her
against this bitter world
her back
could just be what's behind her
and she's trying her best to face forward
and that is what I see tonight
she's trying to negotiate
the roiling currents of her life
trying to swim to me
even though I'm rough
and she gets slivers when she holds me
and I'm trying not to bob
too violently in the waves
for her to get purchase
and we're both tiny things
unnoticed by the ocean
so we turn to each other and talk
painfully, haltingly at first
then with increasing grace and candor
when at last we are done
the significance is clear
she turns to her side
I kiss the delicate hollow
between her shoulder blades
as I have so many times before
and I'm glad she reached for me
thankful for the breadth and buoyancy
of my body, lifting her up
to rest from paddling
to dry herself
to simply be
I bow to the universe
that has allowed us
to meet in the vastness
and travel along together
