Sometimes
More than beloved's laugh
You need
The Shrill cry of her pain
To lessen the burden of life
Sometimes
More than futile breathing
You need
Asphyxiation
To tell you that you are alive
Sometimes
More than the loneliness of room
You need
A mad joyous crowd
To sing you your forlorn song
Sometimes
More than emptiness
You need
The softness of a woman’s bosom
To blunt the barbed lines of fate
