I want to go cave-deep
without an artificial light.
Our eyes would become useless
in a darkness that required touch.
I just want to rest my voice
for a little while, and listen to yours—
I want you to tell me everything
you’d like to be known—
what fulfills and diminishes you,
where your joy is born
and how you live with those regrets
I know you’ve tucked away.
I just want to see you clearly—
illuminated by a naked honesty.
I want to crawl on my hands
and knees into your dark corridors
where you bury your fears
and keep hidden your daydreams—
those fragile stalagmites begging
to be left intact, untouched.
I only want to admire you a little longer
before my eyes must open
onto the surface of a world
I inhabit without you.