I would have pulled you closer, and stolen a kiss.
To kiss you: passionately, as if I'd never see you again.
Yet, my restraint was in vain, and stroke amiss.
For I've only become more entangled, without your silken nectar dancing across lips.

... So little left unsaid
Yet so much time between us

Nothing to be saved
Yet space creates a gap filled with imagination

Unspoken conversations perhaps?
Or just one trying to retain the days that were meant to happen?