What is this... this thing
Would of thought this distance,
This absence from you,
Would of cooled my desire,
Loosed this hold on me,
Yet here I am,
Empty armed,
Aflame and aching within,
A desire that never ceases,
Longing, yearning,
For your touch.
My heart in my throat always,
I can not swallow it down,
Gripping me tight,
Leaving me gasping,
Each day that passes,
None is diminished,
For it only grows larger in me,
It overcomes me,
And I am without resistance.
What are these tears that well up in me,
Burning as they roll down my cheeks,
I can not be rid of them,
As I can not rid my mind,
Of thoughts of you...
Copyright ©2006 Delmina DeSousa
