I would grovel at your feet And feel no shame At the weakness I display If you would only honor me with your touch Because the brush of your hand against my cheek, your embrace Infuses my body and my soul With a warmth greater than the sun My tears fall hot enough to burn my skin When I see how you hurt You have pierced my armour So much, that it remains Only a tattered piece of cloth That loosely drapes My heart It has become useless and ineffectual against the burning soulful looks you throw my way And when you touch my hair and Lay your head on my breast I ache I ache for what cannot be And oh, when you press your lips to mine I feel like I am lost in the desert And you are my oasis My salvation But I can never have my fill of you And with the small bits of your affection that I am allowed That you can grant me I will surely die of hunger |