I know who you are, No matter your form.
Come to me at my death and we will kiss.
You play the shadow,
each moment, each now,
better than you play the sun on green leaves.
Come to me when I wake, that I may enter you
alive from our dances together in my dreams.
I know you, even as you quench my thirst;
gulping from exiles in a desert.
In the mirror, I see you
until I only see myself;
we will be freed from this fear that separates:
come to me now and we will kiss.