What is this feeling
that fills my soul?
The dull ache of a relationship
that has wilted and withered
before the first stem,
or leaf, disturbed the soil under
which it rested.

I swore the seed had already sprouted -
its fresh tender stem, vulnerable
and needy, had burst
forth into the vivid piercing
light of the sun, gobbling
up it's nutrients and crying
for more.