A bottomless lack, a crave of endless assurance,
spilling out a mouthful of questions with alternative motives.

(Your comments. Body language.
Your past. Silence.)

Spare me the stillness of empty air
while you sit quiet, I grow frantic in my skin.

(Itching and pulling.
Stretching myself thin.)

I strategize every move and rethink my actions
I grasp so tightly at time not spent.

(Going back. Needing.
Asking. Again, and again.)

From this moment on, it’ll be different, I’ll let you drip off me.
I will thirst for nothing and receive no less.

(Time stretches like the Sahara
with the thought of being without
You.)

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