Seemingly Unattainable

As my fingers graze
and my senses just begin to grasp...
It disappears
into the haze.

I search for it, and in a daze
I spot it--
a blur in my peripheral...
And then it is lost in the maze.

My eyes glaze,
wet with longing
and lack of sleep.
I feel myself spiraling into a delirious craze.

The tide has turned.
I clutch now
that of which with desire I had oft burned.
I want it not, 'twas merely a phase,
a trick of the mind, no substance, just glaze.