I love, like one who has passed on can love
Every action is selfish.
And yet, at the break of night, it is I that suffers
The air seems to surround only me, but I feel you like a shadow
Your hand on my shoulder, your hand around my heart
Too sure, like morning fog clinging to the grass,
Like the handle on a cup, ready for the drinker -
Then I fall back into myself.
My lungs flutter; a butterfly upon my breastbone
Fragile, fearful, so full of wonder that there is no room
For air. My silent heart gives way to your embrace,
Come, find me. I am yours.
