I will fill my cup with liquid wishing
to cushion my fall from this longing
— No, a craving — for your touch
I think I’m in — no — is that too much?
I’m a ball falling from a hill
I, a string twisting around still
Around you I long to coil
Such is my longing for your soil.
Plant my kiss in your mind.
On your wrist you will find
A mark of my adoration for you
Though, I wish you had it in you too