what is it
to be cleansed
laying solitary
letting reflection
reveal course

is it my face under
a waterfall
my skin cool
against these sheets
made aware
of the lack of your lungs
and impossibly not regretting
that absence

is it a clear sunrise
or my reflection thrown back
across an unexpected moment
wherein I recognize
the exact hue of blue
in my eyes could never
be forged or carried
without my soul
behind it

without a meaning
to fill the yawn
of soul

it might be
to set upon a path
carrying a light
held high to my heart
but not by you

when will I