Every line of "Longing" begins with the same two words, "I long for," and that repetition is the whole point. The speaker is wishing for someone who hasn't returned their love, and they can't stop circling the same feeling. Each line picks out something small and specific: lips, arms, a voice, a pair of eyes meeting theirs. The list moves from physical touch toward bigger, more tender wishes, like hearing their name spoken, wanting time to "stay still for us," and hoping for the day their feelings are returned.
The mood is quiet, earnest and a little sad. Nothing happens in the poem; the speaker just waits and wants. The final line, "I long for you...", drops all the details and names the real need. The trailing dots make it feel unfinished, as if the speaker has run out of words but not out of wanting. It reads like a confession whispered rather than announced.