Craning My Neck For You

I wither in solitude,                       

 Your acts never smack of turpitude.

As I send my necklace,                

 Through the crane on my terrace.

These shoulders long eagerly for your hug,  

 That no one else can give than you, my lovable thug.

If hopes were dupes, fears would be liars,      

 I know you are among the long-term players.

Identify me with these pearls on a string,       

It is the only thing for which my heart does wring. 

My neck too cranes like this messenger crane,

Maybe I am looking through the wrong windowpane.