TO touch you brings you no solace; to slough off the tufts of hair from your sneering face and look deep into your eyes.
I know better than to want you for myself
and to expect you
that your rejection makes me mourn.
I saw a man.
He had not felt the tender touch I press to your cheeks in
too many years.
I wondered how much more he would appreciate me.
But I could never want him the way I want you,
I wonder if the reason is that he is willing to accept love.