Give me the Kind of Presence

Give me the kind of presence
to make false confidence go soft at the knees,
and sink beneath the water.

And a tenderness to thaw false humility,
whose cold hands have stopped my throat
and glazed over my eyes.

Let the alchemy be weighty and buoyant,
showing me where air and sea meet.

Tiger flashes its teeth
and lies down, meekly.

Wavering between soft and strong
and the illusory gap between:
thinning and blending
under your gaze.

Where below meets above,
where my inhale meets your exhale:
grace.