Caring Little, Longing Still

Living the day, not caring but little.

Sleep comes quietly, taking me away,

claiming my soul making me yearn.

The sweet touch I dream of,

never to be suggested upon my lips.

Wanting his touch like nothing before,

my heart longing, begins to ache.

Filling with emptiness now I am left poor,

though his influence still has it's hold.

Everyday, hearing his voice,

it rolls of that tongue with evident grace.

Some words not spoken, only seen,

they find a way to make my heart sing.

The implications so strong in my chest,

but no more will my emotions rest.

The feelings growing never able to be expressed,

I am left alone to my own unrest.

So I dream at all times of day,

wishing for the connection that will not take place.

The ending I seek I may never acquire,

yet here I am still hoping for some reprieve.

Stronger growing, each passing day is my desire,

for his touch, his lips, his wonder I require.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

"still hoping for some reprieve.

Stronger growing, each passing day is my desire,



for his touch, his lips, his wonder I require."