Fingertips that travel south one of the softest skins they've ever felt. Your touch feels electric, it sends shivers down my spine. It makes me quiver, makes me beg for more.
And then eyes flutter open. Your smell vanishes as the perfect dream rests torn between my fingers. The bittersweet taste of your berry mouth fading from my sealed lips. I toss and turn, my bed's so big...Then I lie down. Accepting it. I just stay awake with my eyes closed, trying to find your scent in my bare pillow. Day-dreaming, I can feel your hands roaming my body. Roaring, in waves crashing against my rocks, the pleasure of being as one.
But then a frown on my mouth settles down, puckered the hole that screamed in pain when you were torn from me, scarring me for life, marking with fire a poem in my heart, while yours stopped beating. Why did it stop? Wasn't my love enough to make you scream? To make you breathe? This love that is stronger than it should be. This love that is as forbidden as impossible. I know you feel the same. I know it, you told me in my dream. You wouldn't lie.
Because I could see the lie in your eyes. You, as me, all the same, I can read you as well as I can read myself. Can you read me? I'm written out just for you. You're the only one who deserves to know...who deserves to have me whole, yet these Cold Hands took you away.
And so here I lie. Jealous of everyone and anyone that can have what I never will. Jealous of whatever God there is, for having you by their side, you wingless angel. Broken, forgotten and unsatisfied.