Pardon my ill manners

For I will gobble

And drink wantonly for

I am thirsty and

Hungry but not dying

I am not desperate

I wish to live

Too often I fear

My aloneness prompts speed

Which often appears as

Desperation but really all

It is is glee

For someone new occurs

To me like a

Wonderfully wrapped gift given

To a child who’s

Unused to being given

Presents where my humility

Overwhelms my own caution

And when I realize

That you’re really mine

I tear you open