cadence

I invite you to enter
into my whole being
but to enter not as someone
who enters an elevator or
a shop or as one
who is late for work
let it be unhurried, without urgency
not like clock hands
passing without having touched
touching without leaving a trace
arriving and leaving
without having been with me
without knowing about me
not knowing
how my body trembles
whether I am hot or cold, or
of this thirst I am feeling
don’t come if I must wait for you
one hundred days of hope and
instead of filling my body
you leave it even emptier
if you’re not going to stay inside me
you’d best not come
 
I want you to enter through my skin
by dint of constancy and
permanence
by absorption 
as if you were drizzle and
I were grass, and it rained all July
as if you were the sheet
the towel, my coat
the sun over my skin
I want you to enter
through my knees
through the soles of my feet
through my hair, my neck, my pores
 
until without haste and
without noise
your lungs are as mine
your heart is as mine
in the same space
with the same rhythm
the same length, the same light
until our breathing and
our heartbeats coincide
then you
being part of my whole being
fill me and remain with me
inside my whole being