And Still, I Burn, A Poem About Longing
Every so often, I’m visited by a traveling itch.
I push up my sleeve and chase it,
but this itch is a deft matador.
Twice, I have scratched
every square inch of my body
without finding it.
Is desire even meant for quenching?
I’ve looked in all the usual places
and still, I burn.
Longing Is A Deft Matador
Peter and Maria Kingsley wrote a lovely article about the beauty and terror of longing. Their words are a missive of living wisdom outside of time and space.
“Our minds always trick us into focusing on the little things we think we want—rather than on the energy of wanting itself. If we can bear to face our longing instead of finding endless ways to keep satisfying it and trying to escape it, it begins to show us a glimpse of what lies behind the scenes of this world we think we live in. It opens up a devastating perspective where everything is turned on its head: where fulfillment becomes a limitation, accomplishment turns into a trap. And it does this with an intensity that scrambles our thoughts and forces us straight into the present.
Peter and Maria Kingsley, “As Far As Longing Can Reach”
