Say: Poetry

Imagined illicit responses
demanded by insatiable thirst
make me quiver
with need running rampant
beneath my skin


Keeping myself away from
you is a dream dispersed
with mournful shivers
as if our meeting has
been indeed a sin


To touch you
is a fantasy I've drawn,
my sketched palm against
your unshaven cheek
as you lie so quietly sleeping


To be your equal
instead of your chosen pawn
and let down all defense
so that you'll speak
to a heart you're already keeping


I stand here,
behind a closed door
holding a candle


I wait here,
in silence I implore
you to grasp the handle


and say you love me, too.

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