i am an empty field
i am harvest-less,
fruitless,
i bear nothing.
i think it would be possible
to once again fertilize
should you return
should you return whole
should you return whole and warm
and enter my womb
and enter my soul
and enter my bone marrow.

i am afraid of forgetting
i am afraid of you forgetting me forgetting you
i am afraid of slipping past you
like a silk lizard on a temple floor:
part of the beauty
but estranged from the prayers whispered softly into the night.
i am afraid of floating,
floating past you;
i am afraid of floating alone.