I can feel you
there waiting for me;
like the smell of perfume
or the feel of silk
drawing me.
drawing me
now that we've touched
I can not stop the wanting
the longing
I can not stop from touching you again
or at least trying to
I seem to fail at this
more often than I succeed
but its only another spur to keep on
it frightens me, how much I want you
how drab and dreary I feel
when we do not speak, compared to when we do
I want you, to drink you all in
despite the cautions
it is the wanting
that frightens me most of all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very real poem that finds a sensual but non-romantic reality.