So Fickle, These Five Senses

There are people who scatter around me;
Some in mock haste; others ambling, perhaps

But I see them not..
feel them not...
so closed off is this abstract nearness,
so fickle, these five senses...

Then there is You so distant in time and space;
but all the while, right here beside me...
with me, around me,

a fragrance, an energy, some words...
a voice.. a name... a being...

a necessary delight.

I am filled. Emptied.

But filled. Again.

Stop!

I want these words to stop.

They waste so much!

Spilling about careless,
These drops float in the water
Of life around me.

All I want is to submerge myself;
To drown
In a sea of voices
That make flirtation
An art...

And art, a devastation
Of something
Sacred.