silence: it is not a lack. your voice, the clear sky: a million ways to know that we are for each other. the conspiracy of the stars and the crickets now defined by the smell of wet, warm asphalt.

i am ancient without you, renewed by you and the kind way you say, can i kiss you? i am lack, an ache, a gulf opened up in the earth but with you: a sprite, free and clear, in the depths of the quarry.