I miss the sound of your voice , close to my ear
verbal poetic *********** whose timbre
like pen stokes ink into my skin
I miss the feel of your lips, to taste your soul
when we kiss and worship before your tongue
leaving praise upon your lips
I miss your scent on our pillows
like a memory on which I drift
to lull me back to peaceful sleep
And the heat of the space where you slept,
in which i curl like a cat on a window sill
lazy, content.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 4:59 PM UTC
I miss the sound of your voice , close to my ear
verbal poetic *********** whose timbre
like pen stokes ink into my skin
I miss the feel of your lips, to taste your soul
when we kiss and worship before your tongue
leaving praise upon your lips
I miss your scent on our pillows
like a memory on which I drift
to lull me back to peaceful sleep
And the heat of the space where you slept,
in which i curl like a cat on a window sill
lazy, content.