In your absence, my Beloved, all is dull

In your absence, my Beloved, all is dull, and I am bereft.
Each day, I hunch over more, shrink more, am more puzzled.
Where have you gone, why am I alone like this again?

Have I slipped into preference again?
Am I trying to shape you in my own likeness?
Your brightness dims to me
as I pick one part of you over another.
I feel you slipping away.

You are the all
yet I have been saying I know better than you
which parts of you to welcome, and which to ignore.
I am sorry. Forgive me.

Each moment is your perfect offering
yet I think I know better than you
which moment to welcome, and which to turn away.
I am sorry. Forgive me.

Whenever I move towards shrunkenness again
may I recognise your face in that guise
and welcome you and kiss you in greeting.

May I find as much excitement in my shrinking fear
as I find in my excitement.

May I be open to you
and open to my closure to you.

To be with you, my Beloved,
may I know there is no particular way I have to be.
There is only to be, whichever way I am.

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