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Click hereReality sees me..
It feeds me..
carelessly placating me..
in a false existance.
It burns in my dreams..
It consumes my every breath..
Sweat beads proclaim me.
I dream of a touch that is never real.
This touch that would demand me to feel.
This is only a spectre..
A craving seated in the interiors of my mind.
But why does my body make is so real?
I want to feel..
...honestly, I do.
But I'm content to burn lustfully..
I'll be content to burn thoroughly..
Under the duress of a firm caress.