With barely a breath she waits in anticipation.

Waits for the touch, promised and spoken of with intensity and fervour in long hours of separation.

Waits for the sound of murmured endearments, whispered with intent, and uttered with care.

Waits for the taste of the kisses yearned for as if they carried the breath of life itself.

Waits for the warmth of skin against skin, and the cool of breath breathed across wetness that wells from within.

Waits for the sensation of being loved, and lust requited.

Waits, until Eternity makes her wait no more.