Not being in you, I am for I know
where I was,
you being here in me.
I know
I’ve lost myself in you,
turning myself
inside out,
the single-mindedness
of knowing who you are
the bounds
of vagueness, my poems
with cosmic magnitudes
containing
everything outside them,
including me.
I don’t want
to be by myself,
loneliness is the disquiet
compelling me
to be
with an other or
with otherness,
to vanish into another,
to feel for.
I want to find myself
in you.
You are what you are
to me
as things that
have happened in you
and with me
are remembered
to my purpose
as you resonate my reality.
No comments:
Post a Comment