By Leah Jordan Meahl
A tight embrace to melt the edge of loneliness
To feel a beating heart—a lullaby desire.
The brush of skin, though not my own
Full of life, of breath, I cry desire.
Asleep, awake, my thoughts are captivated
By your face, though blurry, O thy desire.
You are a star in the sky—so real
And yet such a high desire.
Closer to you each passing day while
Protecting my undying desire.
If one night your touch is real,
Break down and stale will my desire?
And I, Leah, grown fond of chasing,
Who may never fully satisfy Desire.