I don’t know you.
I think I do, but I don’t.
There is so much about you unspoken, unseen, untouched.
And I long to reach these places,
to dip inside you with the full of me,
with every inch of my being and penetrate the ocean that is you,
the one that rises and falls,
ebbs and flows within.
You see, you touch me, you reach, you penetrate,
you dive, you dip,
you even fall into me.
I feel you plunge.
I feel your soul purge,
and your tears,
I catch them,
and my ocean is fed.
I am filled.
I am chosen.
I am one with the essence of your waters.
Until you wake, and look upon me,
and do not know me,
do not choose me,
do not wish me to be the one to carry your dreams.
And you run, like the weather runs in season’s change,
reforming without ever going,
so that what I see and feel, and even breathe, is still you,
but everything around has shifted and altered,
Where there were flowers the leaves now fall,
where there was warmth, the snow covers,
And coldness wraps and invades, and eats away,
This woman who thirsts for the places she cannot travel.
Whose mouth waters at the very sight of the one she cannot see.
Whom senses eternity in the acorn she holds,
in the sky she evaporates in her mind,
and the outline of the shadow where you almost stand.