Self-exiled,
now wide awake,
like a beast with lower pleasures,
a long-cramped scroll,
I strain forward.
Let me be faced with another man’s need!

I am much further out than you thought.
I am hungry to be interrupted.
I had a paramour–and I’ve had many.
I am despair.
The sots and thralls of lust
have thrived with me.

Waging a doubtful battle with the shade,
I call your name.
The heart that lies in me
must belong somewhere.
Then how should I begin
to satiate the void?