Morning

My head was still lost in my old life, but this was the first poem of a new beginning.

Mourning's veil trails
cross my face
and eyes
rise from the floor.
The first frenzied beats
of trembling heart
and terrified soul
are weeping
for your love. They say
the mind is incapable
of rememb'ring pain - yet
the burning
ache now surges through
my breast. Lacking
longing for far too long, but long
lacking love - I lust
for heat...Burning
bosom breathing beats
a gulp and gasp
as despair winds 'round
toward peace.