Stained mirrors

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So hard to be.
Not knowing who I am instead of what I feel.
Reflections clouded in retrograde
while I wax and wane.

Why aren’t you enough? Why this tangible need within?
I lust for your touch, to know Love beyond love,
to be raptured by my Lover until self and Other become One.
The waiting exhausts all pretense, all knowledge
this tiresome existence depletes all patience.

Passion, desire, burn hotter, burn brighter
as communion delayed breeds temptation unbridled.
Where are you?
Why so distant?
No kiss, no caress, only echoes, refraining.

Lost inbetween.
Cold beyond shadow, you dissipate at my touch.
How can I make you beyond dream, imagination
real and physical, the passion consuming my heart?
Who am I to be?

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