Beacon. A poem.

Here I lie
Across the miles 
from your ordered life
Formally informal thoughts
And elegant surprise

Beauteous and wise
Fettered ofttimes
By perspective and abstraction
But sharp, never dulled
A knife keen and true

And like you
I find myself longing
To be held and revealed
In such a forgiving light

Whose longing and fire
A gleaming beacon
Shining from on high

Desire to be matched
By nothing less 
Than mine

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