when the big empty world
is too much full of noise
or sun & I am maybe
too full of myself, hoping
to be fuller with you
in morning time,
aching for your voice I have
gotten used to,
asking me to help together
start this day? Gladly,
I reach for your hello
to give some shape
to my happy alone self,
dull and removed
from the pressures of the day,
the regular pace
I let go of on purpose but still miss almost
all of the time.
Why
do I keep surrounding myself
with leaves or remembering
your smiles, obvious buffer to keep me from listening
to my own dying
every minute of my life, when instead
the real present
pleasure of your constant return
really does fill me up with such
confusion,
as in: am I worth this?
I hope I am
worth this,
& that I keep being so
surprised by this happening
that is happening.
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