Saturday, November 24, 2012


I find that my
Desire is inconvenient and
It is not content with the
limitations imposed on it
My want is relentless in its
Assault on my defenses
Constantly expressing its need to be appeased
My desire is not pleased by this
Lack of stimulation and
Manual simulations only lead to
Reinforced frustrations.

My hands are tired.

Fingers stiff from fists clenched with
No one's skin but my own beneath them to
Absorb the impact
What do lovers do with their hands
When they have no one to touch?
The answer revealed in
Marks left on my palms by my own fingernails
Passion imprinted
Imprisoned and
Praying to be released into the land of the loving

I don't know how much time I've served but
Surely it has been more than one life sentence because
My desire has forgotten
What it feels like to be on the outside

A prisoner's daydreams are their hope and their undoing and
I am unraveling.
Trying to hold myself together without the glue of bonding and
My arms are weary.

I am exhausted from wanting.

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