It's an urge I can't get rid of;
It niggles at my mind.
Seven years or seventy,
Can't leave that itch behind.
It's a wish that isn't granted;
It's right there out of reach.
It's crawling through my body;
It tickles in the breach.
It tells me that we're human,
That to live is to desire,
To grab for things you can't have,
To burn with endless fire,
To twist and turn and totter,
To wiggle, scratch, and twitch,
To want and hope and holler
Until you've scratched the itch.
Just the one? I'm. Covered from head to toe! Seems strange to read you in rhyme but you do it very well~of course.ReplyDelete
Yes, i fear death lurks just down the road from where passion and desire live.
Jus the one? Heck, i'm covered from head to toe. How true, karen, i believe death lies in lurk just down the lane from where desire and passion surrender. Wow! Even in rhyme you nail it.ReplyDelete
Karen I will be absolutely honest with you about my itches, I have had them all scratched well and truly, there is only one more that I really want and I can't scratch it for myself. Until then I will just keep on being itch-less and speaking to the things I see that need a hand to scratch them.ReplyDelete
I love that even though my brain went immediately to a sensual itch, it really could mean anything (including that actual itch in the middle of my back that I can reach & will STOP THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW!).ReplyDelete
You put into words so beautifully something I've felt for years and couldn't express.ReplyDelete