it's not enough

[vicioushannah]

My mind crawls with
the need to live with
abandon, to throw myself around,
to be thrilled
as i chase
myself.

and my body starves for lust
while i tangle in my sheets,
because it's not enough
to feel my mind crawl up
and down it every night
in the clever guise of my lonely
fingers.

And between them, all
my voice can find
- these sly works
of syllable that
crash into meaning
when i least expect it.

Eo die tristissima,
quand lingua libera est,
in nos credam,
in nos vitabo.