Your body is the treaty between two savage worlds. It unites my past and present all of my desires and fears. Your eyes are their authors afraid of forgetting the past by giving too much to the future. Your hands, silenced by actions fixated in the lines of your nails, open and close like a scroll holding the most delicate sutra. For a brief moment I played trying to reenact your mystery through actions of abandonment, but here I found an intimacy more then our physical union. Where does night and day begin except on our body's horizon? Here the rain falls on us both, but mingling with our sweat is only part of it's daily passing. Drops do not deny they're water, stop their flow towards the ocean, create singular treaties or fences. Why should it be this way for us? For when we lied beneath this rain I realized for the first time I was dry.