When longing becomes madness
And everything is silenced but my heart,

I tiptoe in fear that my eyes may see me.
I tiptoe into your clothes
In my anger toward
You I neglected them.

I brush off the dust of desire.
I smell them
Searching for your dew
or a drop of your scent.

I press between the muscles of your shirt
To quiet my pains
And regain the balance of my soul

So free me from my vows
Because I often do this.