Reconciliation

Alone on the roof:
the sun burns under my skin;
lining eyelids, barely closed,
the sky's canopy blazes…
Tonight, if we are reconciled,
I will lie, as now,
holding my own heat, yours,
feel the thirst rise
from throat cavern, root of tongue:
we will lend our moistures
to each other, we will plummet
sensing the sky's height
and, beneath, tingling dark depths.
Around us, water that bathes and heals,
salt that promises fresh thirst.