I get drunk
from your perfume
and high from
the very scent of you.

I thrash when the cravings
for the curve of your spine
become too real to deny.

The withdrawal
from your lips
is treated with whiskey
that tastes like dust
in my mouth.

The sound of your laugh
as you smile with your eyes
black hair cascading gently over your face
while you wear nothing
but the shadow of my sheets
is what my heart pangs to see.

instead alone here I'll lay
under the lampshade of an oak tree
and the memory bright
in my tears
that choke at my throat
as if those silk soaked hands of yours
were wrapped around me.