I don't ask for much -- or maybe I do. Ok, so, I ask for a lot. -- or sometimes not enough. I ask for the in-betweens, the flecks of desire in your eyes, your hand squeezing into mine. I beg for the silent promises, the i-love-you's without words, the I've-waited-so-long kisses, and the laughter that falls within. I seek out, instinctively, the warmth of your hugs, The gravelly smooth low quality of your voice, And that darling half smile I hold so dear. I ask for nothing, and yet I ask everything of you. I coax it from you with a simple slip of the tongue. I ache and need and want.. to give and to take; I ask for too much and say nothing at all, I just lie here in bed, and continue to fall.