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At night
my body becomes aware of you
the way the sea
becomes aware of the moon

Slowly

Then all at once

The windows are open
Rain moves somewhere beyond the trees
The room smells faintly of oil
warm cotton
jasmine dying softly in a glass

And my skin

My skin remembers your hands
with a devotion
that frightens me

The way you touched my waist
as though holding something
both sacred
and dangerous

The restraint of you

Not taking
Not claiming

Only resting your hand there briefly
while my entire body
opened beneath the silence of it

A woman can survive many things

Loneliness
Distance
Even absence

But gentleness
gentleness enters the body
and rearranges it