An Old Poem


My grip is tighter
My vice, more painful
I squeeze her in joy
Hold close to my heart

An earful of pain
Persist against her wishes
If I squeeze harder
She'll know I'm for real!

I can't hear protests
Her pleas or anger
I feel her heart beating
This is love, I must know

When she bursts in joy
The finalization upon me
Leaves nothing, confusion.
So empty, alone.