I know the pain of ship-wrecked men:
unquenchable yearning, a devouring pull;
I long to sate this fiend.
I trust you see me for who I am,
Deserted in the desert,
There is no way back.
I thirst for you my love:
the stalactites calls the stalagmites,
There is no way back.
you deny me a last drink, you know not,
I drink the oceans dry I shall be parched,
the monsoon consumes me, my lips still torrid.
I require but one nurturing aspect,
Even ambrosia envies my desire;
There is a clasping grasp on my tongue.
My throat barren and taut,
My life an arid squalor;
There is no respite more apt than,
The taste of you,
I am utterly wasted;
The sands of time attest to my dreams,
I am as you left me.
