What shall I say to you?
What spring shall come of a lifetime of winter?
What shall I call you?
My mouth cannot wrap around the words. My voice chokes on the syllables of a maternal calling.
How do I desire something I have never known?
How can I hold the expectation of a dying bird?
How can I look into your eyes and see my own?
My arms cannot hold your longing. My body shudders from prolonged contact.
What more can I do?