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i can’t find things that mean something to me, something greater than this universe, greater than the morning sun falling on cold dew drops, something greater than kindness shown on a lonely day, something greater than another’s lips speaking the things i hold dear to my heart. i cannot find things that mean to me anything greater than tasting the air, sipping it like merlot, sitting with a friend to chat about frigidity and crying over the intense intimacies and affections such as holding hands. nothing greater than the sway of a tree branch, fruitless but true to itself in it’s infertility. anything greater than the warmth of the inside of a house on a rainy day, and time that brings gifts unforgettable. nothing as a early morning sparrow, a peck on the nose, another seedling of emotion robbed. i cannot find things, great things, that mean something to me.

you, your friends, your parents, your dog, your life— how great are these things, how grand they are to be able to hold you. and powerful you, in the middle, waiting, watching, patiently for a day when you let yourself be and you let yourself feel, unafraid of the rushing blood of love, the heat, the prickle, the sting, and the grand shamelessness of who it can make of you.

i cannot find things that mean something more to me than what i am surrounded by— i feel rebirthed whenever i leave my room, my self made womb, and go out. a crisp wave of wind shakes away the rigidity from my bones and i am just a person, just a human, left behind. it strips me bare and the moon kisses my thighs and for once i do not cry. the trees sprinkle leafy love on me and they welcome me home.

“where have you been?” they ask and i tell them i am in search of something that can provide the same things as them.

i am not grand, i tell them. i am not great at what i seek. i am just these simple thing’s perceived, however, with not just an open eye. and so i am made of such simple things. i bear no ability to touch someone and make them want to worship me like god forever, i cannot be seen once and make another wish for them to become a devotee. i am no god, i am no lover. and i cannot find things that mean something to me. i am simply looking for things that can make my heart jump to my throat again, become my anklets and hold on to me as i rush out into the world. in search of this, i have found you.

so give me what you are fond of, give me a pile of yourself— unkempt and breaking apart from the seams, but indivisible. give me the way you feel, give me the things you love, give me the way your sight lands upon things and turns their meanings from dust to gems. give me you, so i can find things that mean something to you. give me you so i can worship you as a saviour and love things you love as mine. please, give me you.

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