My hands tingle,
looking at your ***** brown mop of hair,
fresh from the shower and as fluffy as can be,
wanting to brush my fingers through the softness.

We lie on separate beds,
watching the white puffs of smoke,
like miniature clouds,
making the dark sky pure.

I watch your enchanted face,
eyes hovering over every detail your emotions sculpt,
watching how the city skyline illuminates your eyes,
pure love sits in them.

I want to let them rain,
Release my eyes from the pain,
Pretend we were never on the same bed once,
As we had kissed under the setting sun,
while the puffs of white rolled gently along.

You belonged in my arms,
Arms that don't feel your warmth any longer,
That are cold as they lay by my side.