By Christy Towle
A longing discovered.
Kept away by darkness and depression.
Milky dreams, flowing from brain to breast.
Spilling out into the world.
Nights of fantasy, desire and lust.
Fulfilling and sleepless.
Days spoken with smiles.
Wanting you to agree.
Needing you to want me, my milk, my love.
Wanting more than you can offer.
My head hangs low,
My breasts weep.
So close to being close.
So far from being reality.
I’ll bury my soul, again.
Waiting, if only, for one more night!
I do not own any rights to this gem, I found this on a site that no longer exists, and have no idea how to contact the original author. If you recognize the poem, feel free to share any information you have, I have no desire to steal credit.