I feel her in my lungs, she is my very breath.
Every intake is a caress against my lips.
A life without would be death.
A craving? No, something more.
Buring in my chest, a pulsing ravenous need.

But what am I to her? A leaf perhaps.
Momentary beauty that fluters past her eyes,
To be trampled underfoot without thought.

who is more fortunate ,
One who was once found and yet lost ,
or the one, who was never found at all !