I can’t sleep.
My throat burns with the harsh smoke of a raw cigarette,
the same taste of  your tongue once encircling mine,
smoky breaths merging together in a passionate silence.
The cloudy mist of my late night thoughts
is what remains of the sweet desire that ignites my lust.
I feel the cold sheets beside me,
the dried sweat stains now only a memory of where you once were.
They replace your fingers running down my leg,
your other hand now a ghost, once pressed to your lips as you inhaled your cigarette.
I feel the burn in my mouth
and close my eyes.
I want to drown in your passion,
submit to your desires and feel your body melt to mine
but I am only filled with the emptiness of these inhales,
your love only the fog in my throat.