What it is to be adored.
To be marveled at, yearned for
to be tasted and desired
tempting jewel to be acquired.
What it is to feel the hungry touch
and though I know I ask for much
when I dream of love and such.
But I cannot sleep nor look away
as I feel the wanting nudge,
so for now the well lies empty
thirst and dread become my watch.
Then to sleep I am lulled by silence
hush little one, hush.