There are those weirdly wired

Who selectively want love

You'll find them one day starved

The next, in hiding from the world

Like a domesticated feline

(Who wouldn't survive in the wild)

They seem to get a moment on a high tide,

The next on an equally mild

Because they readily fill their hearts

Without reservation, from the bottom to the top,

They often wait (a large enough gap)

Till it's all but dried up (though they should not)

Where compassion is keyed into their survival

It also comes at a fixed cost

An equally long period of seclusion

Until you see them again, starved, out and about