You are the lamp in my sleepless night,
illuminating the uneven rocks I cannot move by myself.
You seep through the hollow ports like heated supple incense,
bringing warmth to the cold spaces where I had not brought warmth before.

I follow the outlines of your shade,
discovering stars in the silent void where you have been,
each star saying a part of the care you bring
even when no one acknowledges it.

You are the wave that shapes the cliff,
gentle but not wean,
reminders to the rocks of their placement
in the soil and to the sky of its compassion.
Without you, the night would reach longer,
colder, and substantially less forgiving.

Even in your absence, you are still here—
breeze through the trees,
stream reflecting the moon,
pulse in the blood of everything
that dares to exist.
I remain naked and held in the orbit of your light,
thankful for the gravity
that pulls my molecules toward you.