Possessed Beauty

How can I deny the way I feel?
By denying my feelings
I would deny myself.

I feel a craving I cannot fulfill alone.
I feel a desire I can't quite control.
I feel a warm glow flow in my chest.

I feel something being re-created
--Something long gone and deceased,
--Something that seems to grow in light,
Caused by a beauty I have before forbidden myself to see.

But now I am free to see, and,
May my Mentor forgive me,
For this is Beauty indeed,
And I want to own it.

'Beauty', he said once, 'is not to be owned;
It is to be seen, loved, admired, quite Platonically,
But it is not to be owned.
Then, it would turn into something... else.'

I believe you, O Mentor,
But this feeling I cannot deny;
This beauty I must own.
I must possess it as my own.

I must kiss him, hold him, smell him,
Savor all the beauty in that person,
Savor it as if there was no tomorrow,
Freely and joyfully,
I must hold that beauty close to me.

But why must I? Why the painful craving?
Why has the rebirth of my soul
Turned out to be more than I expected?
And still,
Why do I get less
Much less
Of all the fire I expected?

I seem to be alive again;
Not for that person, but for myself.

Though it would be just perfectly lovely
To own that beauty as I love myself.