need
i burn in secret places
where no one else can usually see
the slow restless ache
threading through my breath.
*
my skin remembers hands, fingers that aren’t there
leans into ghosts of warmth
as if they might answer.
*
every moment, every breath stretches
tight with wanting—
a spark in my throat
a pulse that won’t be stilled.
*
i imagine the closeness i want so badly
like the humidity before a storm:
the air warm, thick, electric,
just waiting to break.
*
touch feels inevitable even in its absence
as though the world itself
is leaning nearer just to meet me.
*
i think any touch (from you. god, from you.)
might undo me entirely
*
every nerve is awake and reaching, waiting
*
there is a thrill in my endless wanting, of course there is. a rising anticipation that lingers with everything i do, every way i move.
*
it’s not just the desire but the gravity of it -
the pull i feel. (towards you. always you)
towards something real enough
to answer the fire.
~
i burn. i gnaw. i ache.
i burn. i gnaw. i ache.
i burn. i gnaw. i ache.
