No date...(maybe in August?)

Let in the pastoral
slowly, not operatic and cacophony like it was before,
the last time
a movement gone by,
coming back, fulfilled.

Turn me round
gently, not betrothen like
invite me
bring me to you, yielding,
coming back, fulfilled.

Stir me
between the perishable
and the absolute
belong to me
between the sun and it's shadow,
coming back, fulfilled.

Open me up
resolute and refined
intrinsically harboring like
a wish,
coming back, fulfilled.