This bed is empty without you to make it feel whole.
This room is lifeless without you to breathe warmth into it.
Sprawled flat on the sheets, my bones sink between the layers.
My skin quivers.
It awaits your touch.
It is too much effort even to round my lips.
My head tosses like a madwoman.
My pig’s stomach churns.
Behind closed lids your eyes guide mine. And with new energy, My limbs rise. My cunt weeps at your memory. And I find the courage to touch again.