Years ago. So many it seems now
I heard you say my name.
You woke me with a whisper. You woke in me a hunger.
Confusion fed me, but you came to me again. You spoke with me without words.
You took from me what I would not think to give in waking.
I belong to you, you said.
I hated you for your words. Rebelled.
I hated you for the hunger.
I belong to you, you said. Only you.
Years from then, and now I feel an aching, longing, need.
You speak with me no more. Yet your words proved true.
I could never give to another what I wish I could give to you.
I belong to you, I said. A whisper to the darkness as I lie to sleep. To dream.