If only I could plunge my hands,

Wrist-deep in beauty’s water,

And bring it to my lips, so parched and dry,

I’d drink until I felt it coursing,

Through my veins like blood,

Eagerly, until the river ran dry.

If I could craft a lotion from,

Self-worth and affection,

I’d spread it tenderly on calloused skin.

I’d lay beneath the golden Sun,

Allowing every pore,

To hungrily soak all its power in.

If only I could weave a song,

From whispers of the night,

And let it lull my restless heart to peace,

I’d sing it soft, with tender voice,

In moon’s ethereal light,

Till sorrows and regrets would gently cease.

If I could bottle dreams and hopes,

Like starlight in a jar,

I’d place them by my bed for darkest days,

Then, in the silence of the night,

I’d open up my heart,

And let their luminescence guide my ways.