Limbs long, dragging lazily
demeanor wavering and hazy
Your protruding hips and wrists
I devoured on sight
My mind palace holds them
to be recalled while lonely or jealous
Someone else gets to touch them
they feel the hollows of skin
and grab, or run their fingers along you
Smooth, gentle, light flutterings
Hands encasing that which lie lost
Baggy clothes, hiding you from all
My notions are innocent fascinations
I could run my hand along all of you
at least once without getting bored
I've lasted months without
I could longer, but I'm weakening
Perhaps, not even seeking another
I can wait