And a poem for your troubles, gov'ner;
[a Ghazal is a form poem, you can read about what makes them tick here, on wikipedia.]
Something inside me aches.
What makes me ache?
Shhh, we'll be very quiet.
It wont be your ears that ache.
There is something empty about this place;
emptiness that leaves space for an ache.
Running is miles and miles!
There is no muscle in me that does not ache.
I don't get why you don't want me!
Not knowing, I nurse this ache.
Go as far away as you can go;
even in the next room, your absence leaves an ache.
I have been reading all day and my eyes are tired;
soon, they will begin to ache.
I resolve to be firm and independent
until I see you. Then I become small, and ache.
The clovers cover you until you are made of luck.
The dirt covers me until I am made of ache.
If I punch your teeth through the sides of your cheeks,
then will you tell me it only aches?
When you left my love, dearheart, it throbbed
and died. It's alive again now, but aches.
Lover, come back to bed.
There is an emptiness in me that aches.
Every time you smile so Cheshire
I want to make you ache.
Get a little bolder;
it's the only way to end the ache.