More so than
The breaking of bread
It's the gentle tap of rain on tin roof
That turns into a gale
While two souls gently unfurl
Tummies full of soup
Grateful for gables to collect drops 
As hopes, fears and dreams swim in the air.

Steamy plunge of tannins
Soaking in tea cups
Stories waft like mist
On cold winter mornings 
As moody songs fill the silent space between two beings.

Wild wings of wind pick up frothy tips of waves and cast them off in spray.
Wow, we proclaim.
Shed our outer skin to soak in deep ocean.
No words needed.
A watershed moment.