There is no object to be
craved.
Desire stands alone.
In
thoughts...we strive for what is
absent from our grasp.
And yet my
empty hands are filled
with pleasure.
When my thoughts hold
only
you.
~
There is no place where we leave off and the
world begins...we are continuous and
ourselves the lone desire that
seeks to only know
ourselves
2 comments:
¡Bello! Love this poem.
Thank you Ana!
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