I told myself I would never write these things. Amazing how things change, isn't it?
Remember...
Remember the warmth of arms
The melting sweetness of kisses
Of long talks and laughter
The joy of hands and lips and faces
The beauty of touch, of sharing, of emotion.
Of holding someone.
Of being held.
Phantoms
Touch
Skin on skin
Heat, texture, pressure
Is it your magic or mine
That makes me feel you
Even three hours away?
I can feel your touch
Smell your skin.
Alone, but not quite.
Comfort or torment or both?
Phantom arms, phantom voice.
Sometimes it feels so real
That I think you're actually here.
Wish you were.
But until then,
I'll wrap the memory of you around me,
Tight as arms,
Warm as skin,
Sweet as touch.
