I crave.

I crave for the first drop of rain that falls from the sky. I crave its coolness as it trails a journey down the lines of my palm. I crave for that moment when it teeters precariously at the edge of my wrist before it plunges down into nothingness. I crave for these precious moments because that split of a second means an eternity to someone who has nothing.

I crave for that rare moment his fingers reach out to tug a stray strand of hair away from my face. I crave for a long, unhurried kiss against the back of a wall. I crave for that moment when he is so close his smell fills my brain and all I can see when I close my eyes is my memory of him. I crave for the look in his eyes when he tells me he loves me. I crave for these precious moments because those little things mean everything to someone who has nothing.