Poetry

To Have Yet Never Have (#950)

This is the perfect bed,
Without you, its warmth is dead,
A thirst I can never quench,
A hunger I can never bench,
Not one kiss on my lips,
Nor caressing of your hips,
I beg to make love!
It is returned by an emphatic no and a shove,
How can you be in my bed,
And never desire to have the hunger fed?
Sent away like a scolded child,
When all I wanted was to make love, god forbid wild!
It seems to make love is more dream than real,
I know we make love and yet this is how I feel,
I beg for a mere taste,
To be waist to waist,
But NO! I am to lay and wait,
All for not it seems as late,
To look upon hunger’s hope and whim,
And yet to know such hope to be honestly dim,
Confusion, hurt, and dismay,
How do I encounter this every day?

Any Thoughts?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.