Saturday, May 8, 2010

achy yearn

I know what I cannot know and still
Achy yearn to know it

My fingers itch to touch sometimes
Or desire makes dust of my lust

Lust is candy to this lady
I very rarely crave it

Desire is calla lilies filling my eyes
With tears and touching my heart

With a pain incommunicable
Sometimes I feel the brush of something holy

Desire is the immaterial involuntary
Call for love

The ache is the scruff-raising wait
For a possible response

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