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The Urge The Longing For Satisfaction
to scratch an itch
to caress that which gives us pain
the fingers play a song
on the body on the hair
deep within
the lost purity of my soul
there is always the satisfaction
after the scratching of an itch
there is a smile on closed eyes
lips wet and body sweat
there is a dream
a fantasy somewhere
without you
my thoughts of you
my longing about what you are to me
there is in my body a black bird wanting to fly away
without you
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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