With squeals as of a baby eager,
I startle myself when I labour to sleep.
For every major heart throb, a squeal to express delight.
A dream I wished for, hopes to calm.
The stirred state I wake to,
amazes the overwhelming ardour.
I grope for something tangible to dip into,
beguiled by these luring emotions.
A delirium to soak up in this bliss,
a wish for a moment to bemuse this frenzy,
to neglect these groping senses,
to let myself feel the immortal gasp of emotion so vivid.
The restlessness never to be satiated,
an imprudent nirvana I created,
where I cannot enact my happiness;
where exists, an unfading desire for love.
17 aug, 2010
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