As there is a hole in my heart –Of which I fill with the anguish of emptiness.
For it is not of your touch that leads my heart to stampede,
nor does your kiss taste as sweet of her tenderness.
Yet suspended above this abyss of lust, loneliness and love
I am only poised to ponder of whom
- Is fulfilling yours.
© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008
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