When the ache
to yearn
becomes
only a slight
bland version of itself
The only illustration
of action
is that of
a
faint sigh.
I am not
revved up
and it’s always the ones
incapable of that
thrust
here
in place of
those who are
sigh.
By detaching
setting
the care
the desire
aside
I’ve lowered
expectations
of
excitement.
Ready
but not simply
a lady
in waiting.
And isn’t it that
absence that makes
the first
sight
the first
brush
the most
searing?
It causes my face
to glow
my nose to bubble
with sweat
and that familiar lubricate
to surface
as it does
only
for you.
I am here
prowl not halted
only
in leisure.
Oh
come here.
