Desperate

Here I am,
with silvery moonlight
dripping off my body.
Stars sprinkled in my hair
and eyes the color of the bluest sea.
I'm not desperate.

Do you hear me?
With my heart singing
songs of the heavens
and my laughter, like bells?
I'm not desperate.

Can you feel me?
With cheeks the smoothness of rose petals
and skin as gloriously soft
as silk.
I'm not desperate.

Do you know me?
With changing my thoughts
and feelings to suit you,
You should know me.
I suppose I am. . .
truly desperate.

October 27, 1998