I can’t sleep.
My throat burns with the harsh smoke of a raw cigarette,
the same taste of  your tongue once encircling mine,
smoky breaths merging together in a passionate silence.
The cloudy mist of my late night thoughts
is what remains of the sweet desire that ignites my lust.
I feel the cold sheets beside me,
the dried sweat stains now only a memory of where you once were.
They replace your fingers running down my leg,
your other hand now a ghost, once pressed to your lips as you inhaled your cigarette.
I feel the burn in my mouth
and close my eyes.
I want to drown in your passion,
submit to your desires and feel your body melt to mine
but I am only filled with the emptiness of these inhales,
your love only the fog in my throat.

Do you ever feel,
the burden of silence?
Its empty weight filling your chest with the pure sound of nothing,
a vacuum of thoughts and suppressed sounds.
It builds the need to move a finger,
to break the silent noise with the rustle of sheets,
to release a heavy breath or twist your head,
in hopes of filling the room with the presence of sound.
Yet do you ever feel,
the beauty of an empty room,
its sounds and noises slowly dying as darkness creeps in,
a mere breath too loud for the peace of a quiet moment in time.
For the most beautiful words,
and the most beautiful sounds,
are those that lie unspoken, unheard,
still -
only alive within our thoughts,
in the quiet of the night.