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May 2019
I am here, waiting patiently for her,
though long time no see
like in ever, like in never,
my absentia, dementia,
both critiques of self-censure,
here, then, my cadenza,
dedicated solely soulfully for you:

as the sabbath sun rises over the East River,
saying, mocking, laughing upon me,
β€œstill here, though long time no see,”
for though I cannot never look upon her as well,
my sun, my sun,
yet she, too is everywhere-inside of me,
woman-sun, both warmly illuminating my muddled mind
Written by
Nat Lipstadt  M/nyc
(M/nyc)   
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