Her hands caressed the skin that was not mine
My lungs were burned from what I did not feel
Her fingertips were wasted like cheap wine
That I would from its empty bottom steal.

The torture spurns my only hope tonight
Alone to bed I move still incomplete
The patience lost is precious to my fight
To force my mind to wait till our hearts meet.

The future’s empty truths leave soul in want
A want that never gains its final goal
Nor finds peace in the ever flowing font
Of true emotion needed to be shown

If you could see my heart for one brief hour
You’d know I need your love in its full power.



J. Abram Barneck.
Copyright © 2003 by Rhyous, Inc.  All rights reserved.
Revised: 13 Nov 2003 15:01:22 -0700 .

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