what to feel, what to feel.
i cast around, emotionless, empty,
but waiting to be full.
there are many choices now:
an understanding of what each means,
an appreciation of the differences
between sadness and grief,
loneliness and solitude,
love and lust.
(it's always harder where you're involved,
for who you are and also what you represent.)
i am an empty casket,
else the body itself:
perhaps empty, perhaps full,
perhaps fluctuating and unsure.
i keen with a fever for you,
abandon it,
and don't know what i ought to be.