Flickering images on the screen
watching us writhe.
Just our skin between
aching, begging, longing
for your touch.
Gasping my need, reaching
across the glass partition
only to be met by frustration.
Look, but do not touch.
Enjoy the view, no hesitation.
This skin hungers for your caress
and waiting seems far too long.
Patience promises some distant success.
Playing with my inner self
imagining your powerful warmth around
my body, only to be bound myself.
Loving you and wanting you
holding my tongue, screaming for you.
Alone in my bed, alone in my head.
All this pleasure, all this pain.
Is what I feel all in vain?