By Megs
Date: 18 July 1999

Futile Attempt

forcing myself
into the smallest spaces between us
in an attempt to fill this void inside
with the warmth of your human skin
and your hands are sliding
low on the small of my back
and every inch the pass over
cries for an encore
and fingers intertwine
and tongues tralve
taunting like flames
flickering hot and hotter
and the heaviness of body pressed to body
desperate attempts to merge
something beyond the physical
I still long to be filled.