Somehow I am always not enough.

Even if its you that falls short

 

I still feel the guilt for merely

    wanting small bites of satisfaction.

           For being human,

  for needing love.

   Physical.  

     Real.

Love

 

I am bare. 

    I "want", desire-   too much

and wager it all on a hunch that

      I am not alone in thinking

we are meant to explore

    define,

         protect,

guide

               one another

      that somehow, 

 

God placed our veins of life, criss-crossed

  for intentions we might never see