I Was,

a desert, devoid of fruition barren, from years of neglect praying for rain. Then you washed over me, and I bloomed Stifled and gasping for affection wanton for connection, but never satisfied drowning in desire. You breathed into me, and I gasped devotion. Lost, foraging for meaning, for purpose a foreigner to love's labors begging for solace. Your star appeared, to nurture me home. Now I am a mystery-even to myself an enigma-filled mirror, reflecting on who l was.