i see it all around me
like some forbidden fruit
whose juice runs down
the cheeks of others
but must never touch my lips.
---
i write so i can forget
how much you mean to me,
how long i've desired you,
and how unknown you truly are.
---
each fall i scramble
to find warmth,
before all doors close
and winter comes.
---
i grow bored of imaginings,
machinations of the mind.
i yearn for something to touch,
real, and pulsing with life.
---
i can barely believe i've found it,
after searching for all this time.
it is true what they say,
that if you wait, it comes to you.
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