Meet me there
When every thought bursts into blank space
And I no longer know what
Or where or who
“I” am
My fingertips will reach, yearn, ache
To find yours
Pleading for you to
Meet me there
At the place where I am lost
And we are found
Lines that separate us
Melting, melding, dissolving
Our skin now a pool of delicious resignation
And we remember what
And who we are
Two beams of light
Merging back to where we started
And where we will end
Into one
Author: Jenny Spitzer
Editor: Caroline Beaton
Photo: Flickr
Read 1 Comment and Reply
Read 1 comment and reply