How do I go on believing

when all of my senses are gone.

I see you,

everywhere,

in the shape of things.

The way oil and water

touch hands and

are not consumed.

I think of you,

all the time.

The arch of my life

is you.

It is not enough

for you to be in my mind’s eye.

And,

it is you calmly

holding all my trusting, faith, and

bullheadedness.