I feel the desire
To hold you in my arms
And kiss you again, and again,
To tell you how much
I love you

But all I can do
Is watch you
Sitting there
On that wooden stool
Gazing at me
As if I were stone.
I can see tears in your eyes
And your sad, lined visage.

Touch me
I’m still alive
Can’t you see my bosom heaving?
Don’t cry
Say something
Or smile . . .