Many and More

There are many and more who would kiss my hand, taste my lips, to my loneliness lend their bodies’ warmth. I have want of a friend. There are few, some few, who would give their names and fortunes rich or send first sons to my ailing bed. I have need of a friend. There is one and only one who will give the air from his failing lungs for my body's mend. And that one is my love.