I have found you in the cold of the wilderness. Your body bare and stoned like dying trees. And when I touched your flesh, you did not move. You did not react. My love. I lost you on too many voyages. On too many excursions. And I have returned. Sacrifice the gods for you. I have returned. Your body full in size but hunger, I can feel your hungry in your speech. I can feel it in your breathing. You’re starving. I have lost you once. Twice. Too many times before. I have learned to draw in the ether for you. i have learned to speak in hymns for you. Tell me, why do you ache? Why does your ribcage arch like St. Louis and Calatrava? You used to speak so supreme. So eloquent. Have you stopped favoring the gods? I have seen you lose to the plight of existence. You no longer bear torches with your fingers. Have you realized that I see you in reflections? I have found you in the cold of winter. Naked and absent. With no fight in your marrow. How could this be?