I come back always
to our desires
in both cases, still
unfolding, wings opening
chrysalises peeling open
discarded but useful once;
my desire for you,
yours for me, for truth
in your body, for completion
of long-distanced pains;
my desire to be whole
to enclose you fully
to make a safety-construct
for your blossoming, your
unfurling, your feeding
on the nectar of your own flower.

Tonight we will not
sleep together
but nonetheless will sit
in deepest intimacy
sharing the past day’s events
anticipating skin touching soon
each time, wings a little larger
flight a little surer
and when I sit across
from you this evening
your radiance will surge
as always, almost blinding
my heart’s eyes.

I would have it no other way.

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