Behind gray, green, and lilac you can make
out a moon rising like a gray ball.
The Murrays met the Sanchezes
at the fringe where light becomes
a thing that drops like seeds from the sky.
They touched their palms to grain hair,
parrot beaks, cold ocean spray.
They felt painted, touched back
by something untouching like the moon,
water, ink shed by deep-ocean octopi.
