Sharp stubble that rubs my lips
Your hands gently resting on my small and bony hips
There's very little spaces
Between our stomachs and faces
And I must stretch to my toes
To level with your nose
I feel the seconds slipping
And already I'm missing
The warmth of you there
The tickle of your hair
And the high that you give me

I'm an addict

"Will I see you tomorrow?"