I sit at the top, waiting for the winter sun to fall.
As I sit, and time passes, my mind wanders its halls.
I think of the girl, I liked long ago, who came back in and touched my skin. Who kissed me on the night I needed it the most. Who reminded me I can feel more.
I wish she was here with me on this secluded hill,
To watch the sun fall, to hold her hand and lean in close. To touch her cheek, and breath her in.
This intoxicating desire, to fill these silent times with anothers touch. The impulse to share the worlds beauty with another, and find beauty parallel in them.
So I sit in this silence, and wish she would reach out to me, wish she made it clear that she wanted to be touched again. Because she's entranced me, with her bitter sweet love and tender bliss.