Longing

Small boat on that mirrored lake
My hand rippling glassy surface

Like waves in a fate I didn't make
Memories of satin and white lace

No prayer stops your soul to take
No bargain to make and sin efface

Nothing to daub tear or soothe ache
Not a sound in a hallowed place

Nor that silver icy surface break
Better had we been pure and chase

Then leave purity behind in wake
Heated touch and our pulse to race

Retching cough to heave and shake
One more time to touch your face

In small boat on that mirrored lake.