What it is to be adored.

To be marveled at, yearned for

to be tasted and desired



and admired

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.

Muse 10.15.20

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