Here I am again. I'm back. You stupid idiot, you thought
I'd abandon you again. You didn't even know it and you thought I
was dead. Don't you have any faith? Maybe this time you will
remember that I will never leave you. What good is a lover if
you don't have me, empty girl?
The Constant:
Oh, how I love you, how I love you. Am I seeking you in them?
How far I have gone to find you and never just let you rest, my
darling? You've come back just when I needed you most, when
I'd almost lost all hope, when it seemed flat and lifeless. Why
always this cycle? I can't bear it when you let me alone
and there's no richness anywhere but my own blank adoration.
If you had feet, I would kiss them. Do you like your new home, my
love? I redecorated while you were sleeping. I think it suits us
better. I think it is us in the world. I am beautiful and you
can see yourself in the mirror now and everyone you love can
see you and everyone you hate can run from you and it will be
good. Everything is black and shiny or black and deep or
deep and red or vibrating and soft to the point of agony.
Oh, I love you, I missed you so. I'm not big enough
for you to be inside me now. You push me out into beyond
the limits and I am afraid of my love, my need for you.
Is it you I speak to when I speak to them? Are you
everything, everything to me? My world, my passion, my touch
to not-myself, my window and thunder, shaper of raw matter.
You tell me what to do with things. They appear and
they mean something and they are confusing and then you
tell me how they all fit and they are all right and I can
understand them all at once. I am in heaven, you have saved
me. What do the other people do?