When I am my own self

Not trapped within the drenched streets

Or tangled in the ruins of the bed, just slept or not slept in,

When my thoughts don't pound against the inside of my chest

The way they would the inside of a cage

There is no drumming and no thrumming electric

There is no restlessness to break my sleep apart,

Sleepless about you or one thing or another, 

Then I am warm as a field in autumn

Colored by the sun, and not drained yet

When everything is overripe and bleating,

And there are whispers to get my fingers caught in

and cold air to feel inside my neck.

Then I am a whole self

And empty

And full to bursting with your affection. 

Which I would carry like a wound

or a big weight on my shoulders, as I walk the hill, 

or a ball and chain around my ankles

and never be more happy to bear it over. 

When I am all of me, and have your love, 

Then I am unafraid.