Did you wake up?

I was thinking...
we have been cuddling each other from different spaces,
from different distances,
and we do not speak.

Just feel the warmth of our bodies,
in a sense that we just need each other.
We do not need the brains.
We do not need the feelings.
We don't even need the greetings.

We don't talk all day,
we don't talk all night.
Only when it's needed.
Only when we need something from each other.

And time has passed.
It has been years.

Wondering what made us come close.
Even the ask for *** is not there anymore.
But we just want to make sure
that we continue to see each other in front of us.

It's just like a mirror.
It's just like a sesame.
It's just like a sense of presence that is required.

That is where we find peace.
So that the heart is not broken.
One breaks at the other.
It's confusing.

We've had a lot of questions to ask.
We ask each other—
What's going on?
What happened?
What can we do?
What have we done so far in these years?
How have we survived each other?

And once we were done with the questions,
now we don't ask anymore—
Why?

Why do we still argue?
Why have we not lost connection?
Why have we not lost access or address for each other?
What is it?
Is it that we're looking for closure?

The acceptance is not there now.
We are busy with priorities,
life calamities—
some including us,
some excluding us.

And some thoughts intruding,
blocking an overview.

We have never made this far—
it's a thought that I sometimes wonder.

But I still feel,
or I felt,
or I thought—
whatever you name it—
that it might be necessary
for the heart,
or for the brain,
or for time
to go through with it.

Go through with it,
and see how far we've come.

And also because the mistakes I made
through the journey without you—
maybe I would have never done,
or I would have never taken those steps.

You might have just tolerated me,
but still—
I would have felt protected,
because you dominated my feelings,
and that's what I needed at that moment.

But I failed.
I failed to understand me.
I failed to understand everything around me.
I needed patience.
I had to just take care of being anxious.

Well, I'll go now.
It's not good.

And I see that you are sleeping without expression,
so you might not be dreaming at the moment—
but likely, you've been tired.

Tired long enough
that your body forced you to go to sleep.

But you continue to spend nights awake,
worrying about your feelings.

Not worrying about someone else,
but just worrying about your feelings,
thinking—
how can I protect and savor myself from being vulnerable?

And that is making you stronger.
That is making you ruthless.

Know that there is no other choice
but to create a thick skin,
a boundary,
let go of me—
even though I'm just skin to skin with you.

Because I just don't exist beyond the dreams anymore.

It's likely that you're done with your questions.
You're done with the confusion that you already had.
And that has made you understand
that you had nothing to do with the break.

And we're done asking what is at stake.

I've taken other responsibilities,
which I accept—
you go through with your life.

I'm not thinking about the people that you love,
but just probably surviving,
wondering about the people that love you.

And I'm grateful to them,
and grateful that being around you
has been more important.

Maybe that is all there is now

Come back when your soul is whole again,
I’ll be here, a sacred flame unwavering,
waiting to baptize you in my love,
to heal the scars that time could not erase.

In this holy waiting,
my devotion is both prayer and promise -
that you are never lost, only becoming
the saint I have always known you to be.

I want you holy in your ruin,
with the cracks still open,
so I can crawl inside and live there.

Come back crowned in all the pain you’ve earned.
I will not flinch.
I will anoint your scars with my tongue,
light candles in the hollow of your ribs,
and worship whatever’s left of you.

I am not waiting like the patient do.
I am waiting like prophecy,
like flood,
like plague.
I do not wait to love you.
I wait to devour you,
softly,
completely,
as if you were the last god left,
and I the last believer still on my knees.