A trickle drips
Taking paths for which my mind and womb ache.
A single drop brings forth the flood-
The growl of hunger caused by years of starvation.
The need starts slow at first, gains momentum.
The painful lack of consumation overcomes.
I seek solace, lost in addiction to a drug I've yet to taste.
A drip that belongs not to me, but to the mind and womb of another.
But still I ache.