My heart expands, reaching further, as if to chase you, grasping for your tender presence, even though you have not gone from me . You are resting under me, I listen to the steady thump beating deep. I see an ox in yellow light, plow a field . You, in all your strength, I shatter against , and you, in all mine, wilt like a flower. We sink into an undying, silent communication . I rest on you, my own hearth, scorching away every fault, until I am more myself , until I am something better, shaped by your approving forgiveness and blissful admiration. Tell me, am I not perfect because of you? Is it not in your eyes what I behold? Have you not made me to fall in love again, every day. Because you love me, I want for nothing. My perfect life- a gift, not I, more him, corralling perfection into being by a choice, a piece of magic, a creation of knowledge and acceptance because hope never dies, and love is a creature in itself. Your heartbeat is still the same, steady, regular as a horse trot, unlike mine, fluttering and beating irregularly, warm as the sun, solar flares and all. I see a quiet cottage, I see the forests and night sky. I see a poor man and his happiness raises the dead. Scarcely can I breath, for wanting to give you anything- a hot meal, a cup of water, a pillow to rest your head. There is no invisible heart, just a beating one, under my ear, and I feel just how much it pumps through my soul.