Remembrance

Wistful I lay here dreaming
I trace a fingertip up her lonesome thigh
Nothing but moonlight fills the air
Not a sound, no despair. Lightly I kiss her skin. There’s nothing in between. Slow, deep and deliberate breath fills my lungs with her scent. No comparison. Waking to the sound of loneliness, the only breathing left is my own. Substance induced sleep results in the same daily remembrance. No more scent no more warmth, no more you.

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