How is it possible
to feel this much
passion

so deep-rooted in everything I am
and who I
want to be
and you

and sitting in corn fields
with stalks
higher than my arms can reach
and black crows who
know what I do not
and nothing,
all the same.

I'm overwhelmed
with longing and
desire
for crickets
chirping in the
dead of dusk
the fire over swampy
fields
where I will never let
a moment of this life
go

And in the evening
when I am a shadow
next to you
and the moon is
shining in your eyes

I will know I am exactly
who I was meant
to be.