Vunerability

I find I am lost.
In a liminality of longing.
In your lack of presence;
in your distance.

Where actually are you?
How can I give to absence?

For me, in freefall,
this is one of those nights:
dry, dense, dark,
where reason doesn’t count.

Today, I believe in paradox:
I cling to the insanity that
You are there.
Somewhere.

That there are arms.
Somewhere.
Underneath.

Maybe,
I am not falling
but being born.

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