Finally
You are an answer
to a question long longing,
burning through
a hole in my  chest
my being.

A temporary answer perhaps
a substitute,
an overripe fruit picked from a tree
before falling, breaking, molding
bursting open
unconditionally?

But that hohle was my furnace
that fire my flame
without it
what even am I?
doing?
here?
with you?
without you?
leave me, hold me

Call me by your name.