Every night I empty my heart, but by morning it’s full again.

Slow droplets of you seep in through the night’s 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