Muscles sprinting
Spirit lifting
Droopy eyelids opening
Sallow skin brightening
Mind awakening to the twisted,
lovely authenticity of life.

The thought of you
is like
a cold sore on my tongue;
the pain is dull and
disappears
before I have the chance to
get used to it.

I smell of you
the musky scent of your cologne rubbed into my hair,
my skin
still warm and sensitive to any form of touch
the baby hairs on the back of my neck
crave
your soft, warm breath.
I lean into you
my smile collides with yours
our lips press
our tongues
search
for the love we so badly desire.

I want to be as free as the smoke that escapes from your chapped lips.