I want to always sleep beneath the weight
Of your soul. I want to never have the knowledge of being naked.
I want to run without breathing.

I want to greet the sea and the sea’s mother,
Space. I want a mouth full of mountain wind.

I want you to feel that i am just as beautiful and fleeting. If the wind has the advantage of existing through everything and with nothing,
I want to step across fall leaves and not make a sound.

I want to welcome you home, without
you feeling the strangeness of my presence.
I want to exist with you

And when apart miss you. I want to lose myself
In low-hanging and unmoving fog. I want to lose
My physical form and have you never miss it.

I want to be the smoke in the fog.
I want to lose my vessel

With infinite possibility of folding in
And with infinite possibility of expanding out.
I want the freedom of infinite and invisible of movement.

I want my nerves to enclose around you.
I want to feel every inch of you.
And I want you to be oblivious to my touch.

I want to be the moon you see in the pitch of night.
I want to be the crescent and the whole.
I want to be your everything and nothing.

I want to be the stillness in a clear pool of water,
But not the mirror. I do not want to have an image.
I do not want to be the tree.
I do not want to be the book or the fading picture.
I want to be the roots from which they came.

In our next life
I want to be bygone air, inhaled
and shaped in your lungs.