When it ends..

One of the poems, written with a glass of Martini in my hands. To no one but myself..

Like the lemon which floats
in the promising liquid,
I feel thirst for the forbidden heaven.
And as you empty my glass
I have none, but one wish
To dissolve in our feelings forever.

When you reach out your hand
Towards ring on the table
without hope of ever returning.
I just wish to shout out,
Because I'm unable,
To stop our fire from burning.

And when parting our ways,
You promise to miss me
To hold onto me when I need it,
I grasp your hand tightly
Not wanting to go,
Betray my own heart, or to leave it.