warrenty of your exsistence

You exist
in this space
beside me.

a warm 2 and a half foot
by six foot
existence;

a warm circumference left
when you get up.

I trust
that you still exist 
when you are not beside me,
a child learning peek-a-boo
can guess about the same.

But is more comforting to think
for a time

that you do not exist

with out me there--
without my
permission.


Who are you
when not with me?
you are a different person-- ingauging
in different
relationships,
different observances;
different thoughts.

with out me.

this is when
idenity
and relationship
come to mean
separate things.

When I am
a parcel
of yours;
of you,
and you are a parcel,
of mine;
of me.

So I am
AFRAID
--there, I said it--
of losing what I have
of you.

But isn't it truth
that we never have someone's heart?
It is just on loan, a undefined time limit of ocupation?

Isn't it Truth
that we always have someone's heart?
a gift, with warranty, of an undefined limit?

Truth is, I have no warenty
on our hearts
We have no
loan.

Trust.
and love.
and faith.

these three remain.