Enfold You

Onto this place

Where the fitting feels - intended

These grooves between us

Clicked smoothly, 

Coherently, 

In unspoken

Readiness...

Owned. 

Hugged. 

Held. 

Cared for. 

Hinting at nothing

Short of, 

"I know"

Do You

Read of what is felt?

Has the radar of sensibilities 

Brought these words to your door?

In the knowing, often, I am found. 

Then too, surmise that that very transference

May never be known. 

But to two, 

The you and this I. 

With Me

Sit with me, that I may know the warmth

In your care. 

Nearby, within audible reach

To profoundly absorb

The meaning in candor. 

The relevance of juxtaposition

More needed now, 

Than ever. 

Crushed to know

The ability to close gaps

Ever remains, widening

These are scorching times of uncertainty

They must be sorted as is

In time, with practice, 

In solitude. 

I am hard to crack to my own self

A sewer of skins, stubborn, removed. 

Pushed out to farthest pastures 

The staff of my own leading

Beating me now. 

Truth to be told, in this place

The hardness of who I am, 

Begs for softening. 

For sweetening, 

For sensitivity

To be held.