As I lie in bed, still warm from your touch, I stare at the ceiling replaying the scenes between us.  Your tongue caressing every inch of my flesh as I pull at your hair, moaning with eagerness.  The bed has grown cold but I can still feel your breath on my neck, your lips against mine as you thrust deep inside.  I dissolve into you, every moment that you’re near, absorbing every sensation so you’ll always stay here within my heart, under my skin, tickling at my brain.  I curl into myself, pulling my knees to my chin and inhale your scent that has lingered.  I imagine that your arms are around me still, our heartbeats aligning, our breath rhythmically syncing.  

I wish you could stay so I could awake to your face, but you’ve gone home to your bed where she awaits.

And I wonder if I’ll ever be the one rather than the other woman whom you leave behind with the setting sun.

Tagged:  yds,   prose,   words,  
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