to understand that you're not just
that body or the curly shadow belonging to it
not the words you speak nor the funny gestures of your eyes
to become aware that i would never know your inner self as you
won't either way know mine.
and to breath into that idea while my mind casually imagines
the lightness of a feather, that is still hanging and rocking
and may every day be lifted up
if we both live in accordance to what could be
the simplest condition for love:
to surrender to someone's life
with the constant awareness that you're just not
part of me.
(I
can
only
desire
what
involves
mystery).
