Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence,
without you moving,slicing the noon
like a blue lfower,without you walking
later throug the fog and the cobbles
without the light you carry in your hand,
golden,which maybe others will not see,
which maybe no one knew was growing
like the red beginnings of a rose.
In short,without your presence:without your coming
suddenly,incitingly,to know my life,
gust of a rosebush,wheat of wind:
since then I am because you are,
since then you are,I am,we are,
and through love I will be,you will be,we'll be.