At the thought of desire
the oceans cry.
They break over islands between lovers,
a continent once one body.
But the rip currents are jealous
because we don't long for the pull of the sea anymore.
Because the waters are parted, broken,
a labeled section once one body:

And I am one heart in love with another
that I can finally reach
and five oceans 
in love with the way they touch the shore.

They told me:

If you love, do so always, and with warm
fingertips.

They say:

If you love, do so always, and so deeply 
that they taste you in the water