A craving for your voice
For your arms and hands
A craving to devour
A craving to become

You are the one with whom I should be
But your face remains elusive
Harmless shadows of pale mists
Encircle the enigma of nothingness

Existing in the void
Of a memory forgone
Begotten of a dream in youth
And here I sit, craving it again.

Decisions made, regretted
Accepted fates and requiems
I have become what I sought not
You have become too far from me

My head aches with the thoughts
My mind stings with your scent
A light touch, a soft touch
Nothing but an empty longing remains

A craving to hear what I never did
A craving for arms, hands, never there
A craving to devour
What you never could become

I sit and savor the taste of air
Through, around, within me
There and nowhere, air
A breath of what cannot be
A scream of what we wish had been
A sigh of what we are, in truth—
In truth we shall not be
Yet here I sit, craving it again.