I hear you
from out here
I would curl
inside the curve
of your arm
warm you
and me
with a belonging
neither seems to have
strong arms around me
fingers fingers touching softly
it fills my thoughts
and warms my heart
but I do not know how to
cross the distance between us
life calls
with duties
large and small
and once again
what I want
what I need
gets pushed to
the bottom of
the list
maybe someday
for now
I dream of caresses
I cannot give
and hold on tight
if you know
it is enough
We work in the Dark; we give what we have. Our Doubt is our passion- our passion is our task, and the rest is the madness of art. -Henry James
