Passionfrost

There is a frost in my mind
This night
Which chills my heart
To the point of aching,
A stubborn tightness
Clenching at blood,
Making my muscles scream with
Each monotonous sigh of languor.
My stomach is queasy,
Hungry for a particular sustenance,
And my mouth is wet
With anticipation of my final satiation.
Teeth primed for a grin of life,
I pained but optimistic
Tread my first steps
Into the night,
Hoping to find Her
To quench my Passion
Before my need consumes me.