In the boat of night
my boy and I float.
There are no oars.
We use our voices
to move through
the waves. But
the currents take
us wherever the currents
take us. It is dark.
We hold each other
as if there is no one
else in the world.
For this moment,
there is no one else
in the world. There is
his voice. My voice.
His ears. My ears.
Our warmth. And
the cold all around.