I have been writing to you

in there

the you I cannot name

painting pictures for you

staging photographs for you

for a lifetime

perverse
in my vulnerability

when in the space of you

I called you art

you were my

little secret

I was
embarassed

but you felt good
the trance

and no it didn't make sense

but it didn't have to

although

in the space of you
I was lacking

calling out over the canyon
I was not answered
by an echo

there were no lilly pads
to wrap around my ankles
at the bottom of the pond

falling hurt
but there was no blood
there was danger

but nothing at stake

just unanswered letters
almost there paintings
and something missing photographs

my indulgence
sad

as
indulgences usually are

but

I have seen you now

of this earth
and I have your name

don't worry
I will stay away

but when you can

you should come to me

I promise to be

disguisting
covered in
and leaking
my humanity.