Emily Dickinson, What Did You Feel?-

When you languidly grazed hands with a Woman, 
had you seen your reflection in Her irises? 
Had you wished you could drown in that yearning black void? 

When you braided wildflowers in the hair of the Woman, 
had you redone the strands in various styles? 
Had you wondered if Her sweetness could be real? 

When you became a recluse and wrote to your Woman, 
had you blazed the papers filled with blatant longing? 
Had you asked yourself if anything was as simple as Her? 

Had you laid into a pillow and breathed as if it was Her body? 
Had you dreamed and dreamed and dreamed of Her Being? 
Had you thought of Her being the fullness you search for in life? 

Emily Dickinson, did you pass away in your relentless pursuit? 
How will I know when to stop if not with the trail of my last word?