When I sit quietly and you

When I sit quietly and you
aren’t there so rush in suddenly, more,
nothing is quiet in my heart, or the quiet is so large

it pushes water from me
in a resounding wave of joy:  I won’t
tell you.  It is mine. Telling sucks the wave back to sea.

I would rather feed you
what the wave does to me. Kiss it
upon your shoulder in a grocery store, share it

in the larger bite,
breathe it upon your cheek at night
this wave that carries me always to your shore.