The engine idles softly from the comfort of this dusky parking lot as I
Wait
Half-heartedly dreading your arrival.

It’s not your fault.
I was raised in parking lots,
Fed up on exhaust, leather interior, errant crumbs.
This pausing of time is
A rare delicacy, and I savor it:
The pleasant lightness of the air combined with the gentle purr of the motor,
The dashboard lights festive and flashing

Red
Yellow
Green

The traffic busies by me,
it’s really picking up now.
Each car a microcosm,
Each a cocoon
A universe
An ecosystem,
And me, a fly on the wall for this single moment of this single journey,
Undetected and undetectable in my own private Idaho.

I do some make up to pass the time.
My skin looks perfect in the glowing mirror light.
I take a breath.
It’s the first one in days.

I bought the legos you promised you’d build with me years ago.
Laying in the dark of your room, we promised it would be our first big set.
Built together.

I will leave the last piece off, incase you ever wish to fulfill that promise.

With joy, I stand,
As you slip from my hand,
A shadow, a veil, so faint, so fine,
Fading like dusk at the close of time.

Yet in absence, I call—
Come forth within me, in all,
To nestle, to bloom,
In my heart’s hallowed room.

O’ radiant spark, so fair,
Manifest love, and fill the air,
Let me hold thee, soft and bright,
A treasure in endless night.

O’ Beloved, in whose light my soul is lost,  
You are the breath of heaven, the very cost  
Of my existence, an intoxication divine,  
A love so deep, no tongue can dare define.  

You are the wine, and I, the cup you fill,  
A thirst unending, yet I drink my fill.  
Your eyes, like stars, consume me whole—  
An endless longing that devours my soul.  

In your touch, I am both slave and king,  
Bound by desire, yet free in everything.  
You are the flame, and I the burning wick,  
I dance in your fire, lost in love’s trick.  

O’ sacred beauty, in you I see  
The truth beyond the self, the unity.  
Your beauty is not of this world,  
But of the spirit, in your gaze unfurled.  

Come, Beloved, for I am drunk on your name,  
A mystic’s love that cannot be the same.  
My heart, a river, flows to you—  
The shore is distant, but the love is true.