Every night I empty my heart, but by morning its full again.

Slow droplets of you seep in through the nights soft caress. At dawn I overflow with thoughts of us, An aching pleasure that gives me no respite Love cannot be contained, the neat packaging of desire Splits asunder, spilling crimson through my days Long, languishing days that are now bruised tender with yearning Spent searching for a fingerprint, a scent, a breath you left behind. -Shamim Sarif