You are the Silence that remains silent with me,
the Presence I cannot sense, the Embrace I cannot feel.
Like a tourist I want pictures, but there is Nothing there,
only you, abiding, evading my calls for sensation.
I confess my desire to feel alive rather than
simply being alive, being present, being yours.
I give myself over to be yours without knowing,
to be beheld without beholding, without needing more.
I am the night in which you move unseen,
I am the morning that has become light
without knowing how.
November 14, 2019