And then there are the moments
when I think I’ll die from wanting you.
Much more than physical craving
I am blindsided.

Overtaken by this powerful storm
that smashes carefully constructed defenses,
set in place to ward off
inevitably disappointing outcomes.

Does this become at best an exercise
To stretch my imagination?
Conjuring up wordforms
that express my love and desire of you ?

Even that marks certain failure
For as deft as my pen may be
As varied as the words
There are none existing adequate for my purpose.