loneliness sits like an island of cold feet;
loneliness stirs like a maelstrom
of hot knives;
when I am touched
either gently,
or forcefully,
all of my ‘heart’
flees the blanket of intimacy.

It is much easier
being alone.
It gets much harder
most every day;

but today
a stranger
with a face like an alabaster rose
walked past me, smiling coyly,

and I wept,

unraveled

to be ravaged,
to be loved.