there was a motion (of)

he and i had this
mutual habit of desiring
elements that cannot be
touched. while i reached
and he retracted and
i bent to an inward twist;
some(thing)(one) other
whispered to me that
we belonged to one
source. suddenly i found
and never wanted or
desired or expected or
anything. with everything
in front of me while
my silence became bigger
and greater. then i ever
was. like pieces of time
dripped to a solid oath.
i promise i only
speak with conviction.

he had piano player hands;
this way of speaking in
octaves and stretching
motions outward reflecting
a history disturbing any
chance. we could have
tried harder. extended.
the last time. he turned
his back to me, trembling.
i switched. when i break
how reliable is your motion?