Jealous Hands (edit)

I caught a glimpse
of your eyes,
but I havn't,
caught yours yet.

So what seed shall
I plant and grow,
that you shall find
fruitful to you ?
Obsession ?
For my fingers are green.
My hands are jealous
of my eyes,
that trace,
the very contours
of your skin.
And I feel it take root.

Your flowery scented presence,
it consumes my attention
like one
would consume grass.
Not so much as
enjoying it,
as just a way of life.
There is !!
No chase here.

I long to hold you,
before our youth bought
innocence and ignorance,
runs out of steam.

But shalln't you worry,
for the plant I planted
is stalkless.

But when you leave
and are gone.
All would be left
is the broken branches
and twisted bark
that through time
nothing is left,
but just left to decay,
and fallen to the ground.

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