Your Cure

It builds so slowly,

Placid cool, to a simmering rage.

It builds in gradual increments,

Never once repeated, the same.

The need for flesh, the need to fuck,

The nagging want with which I’m stuck.

Only you know what will sate.

Only you can relieve what I need.

Only your mind and your body,

Will give me peace.

It’s building slowly,

Now, as I type these words.

It’ll soon be time for you to administer,

The requirement, your cure.