Turned upside down and shuffling in a circle
I call myself a caricature of my own identity.
But. You?
You have flourished my dear.
Every part of you that you ever feared,
Is simply nothing in the face of you.
A small vine planted without a lattice,
You built your own way up.
You didn’t need a guide. Nor did you need me.
But you wanted me. And you Still do.
You want,
Want like the earth wants the sun.
Want like the child wants the mother.
Want like stars want to burn.
I have never been more wanted than by you.
Even when you want something more than the simple lull of the tides under my hands.
You still
Want
Me.
Dearest Clementine,
Listen to my waning voice - I want you too.
Thank you.
