Love Like Salt

It lies in our hands in crystals
too intricate to deciper

It goes into the skillet
without being given a thought

It spills on the floor, so fine
we step all over it

We carry a pinch behind each eyeball

It breaks out on our foreheads

We store it inside our bodies
in secret wineskins

At supper, we pass it around the table
talking of holidays by the sea

--Lisel Mueller
Alive Together (Purlitzer Prize for Poetry)