So this is how a yearning manifests:
At first a lassitude pervades the limbs;
And then a gnawing feeling -- I can’t rest!
I want to talk but something’s struck me dumb.

The object of my yearning hovers ‘round,
Her ghostly presence most benignly felt:
A hint of fleshly warmth is subtly found;
A wisp of fragrance strikes below the belt.

I do not yield beyond a certain point.
My way does not encourage unrestrained
Full-flowing feelings, lest I’m out of joint,
Though such containment’s not without its pain.

But when we meet, ere long, I’ll let it flow.
Unbattened hatches, then -- all systems go!

09/20/1997

Posted on 01/03/2002
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