No, He said.
I want you
I want to taste the miracle of your desperation,
lick the sweet sweat of tense from the hairline well hid
on the back of your pleasuring neck.
I need your needing constant completion,
but not succeeding.
The airborne aroma of your desires are fiery, arousing,
stimulus sensating me by the unending beauty of dissatisfaction,
this virus desirous, infection, makes my perpetual wanting
for an incomplete perfect woman,
forever seeking betterment,
mixed up emotions re this one; who is the striver, who is selfless and/or selfish; can be understood in many different ways