Yearning
A morning masturbation to soothe the ache, easing the loss his leaving makes.
At 4 a.m., I rose to hold His warmth against the morning’s cold. One last kiss, soft on my lips, Just before he left my grip. ꨄ Now lying alone in bed, His scent still clings to me, The sheets hold warmth, a fading trace, Of where he’s meant to be. ꨄ A gentle pull, a tender ache, My body stirs, yet stays awake. Petals part, soft as a sigh, Waiting for him, though minutes pass by. ꨄ My fingers drift, but they can’t replace...