(Michael Timmins )
Especially with my head pounding
and lying helpless in my bed
I long for you and your expert hands
To ease this white heat from my head.
And you would boast that you knew
All the pressure points inside
And you could just as easily kill me
than ease the desire that I hide.
But as your patient I knew
That your healing powers had grown
From a sore that’s far far deeper
Than this heart where the pain was born.
With my head again clear
I think of words to send to you,
To coax you back to my side
But always leave out, ‘I love you’.
And then through my front door
a picture of a far away land
with your love on the back.
And once again I reach for my pen.