I think there can be moonIn the shape of your ballsAnd the weight of my breastsIn the way that they fall.I think there can be emptinessIn your cavernous bodyYou can even find space, in that space, without me..And if you found my space,Not invade or take from meSo that I felt I was holding youWith no more space to hold myself.And slowly start to weanForget my true powerStart to hold your creationAnd forget to create –Not even forget, just be full of yourselfSo I can’t find myself –.Breathe my own breath