Wanting...

I want you to feel

the unbearable lack of me.

I want your skin

to yearn for the soft lure of mine;

I want your head to be dizzy

and your stomach in a spin;

I want you to hear my voice

in your ear, to touch your face

imagining it is my hand.

I want your body to shiver

at the mere idea of mine.

I want you to feel as though

life after me is dull, and pointless,

and very, very aggravating,

and that with me you were lifted

on a current you waited all your life to find,

and had despaired of finding,

as though you were walking

through a world of emptiness and ugliness

every minute we are apart.

I want you to drive yourself crazy

with the fantasy of me,

and how we will meet again, against all odds,

and there will be tears and flowers,

and the vast relief of not I,

but us.