We were tossed

coracle to sand

each side of a line

that once ran

like a guy-rope

between us

but now divided

yours from mine,

nothing ours

but our border.

I waited some time

at the edge

looking for you.

When you returned

I was older

but you were not.

I probed my land

learning its secrets

and now

    when we love

it is here

on the edges of us

along every twist and

undulation—

a line many

times longer

than our mooring.