I need to find a metaphor of this
predicament of longing for a kiss
I need to know why longing’s not fulfilled
If kisses are all milk, they’ve all been spilled
I’m useless every day; I sit and cry
My tears are cream, but they do not supply
the sustenance or nourishment I need
I’ve eaten meat and thought that I was freed
from infant’s food because I am a man
who tastes of life in everything I can
There’s milk still on my lips, a drop or two
delicious milk; I got the milk from you
You gave me meat as well, the milk was best
because you gave it warmly, from your breast.

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