'When I lie next to you under the moon, I do not know who I have become unless I move closer to you, obeying the give and take ... of the earth as it breathes the slender length of your body, so that in breathing with the tide that breathes in you, and moving with you as you come and go, and following you, half in light and half in dark, I feel the first firm edge of my floating palm touch and then trace the pale light of your shoulder to the faint, moon-lit shadow of your smooth cheek, and drawing my finger through the pearl water of your skin, I sense the breath on your lips touch and then warm the finest, furthest, most unknown edge of my sense of self, so that I come to you under the moon as if I had swum under the deepest arch of the ocean, to find you living where no one could possibly live, and to feel you breathing, where no one could possibly breathe, and I touch your skin as I would touch a pale whispering spirit of the tides that my arms try to...