Burn

Wish you were here but you aren’t
no one can touch me like you do
without your hands I feel as a cold corpse
my own touch cannot compare to yours
palms cool with desire
long, hard fingers stroking my warmth
I ache when they slip inside
feel your body heat light me like a torch
your smell surrounds me
sex and sweet incense
skin burns where you’ve been
I cannot please myself
although I have tried over
and over and over
and I feel bruised and spent
but all for nothing, I cannot reach the peak
without you to lead me there
my body cries out for the rake of your teeth
against these smooth mounds of flesh
a tongue flicking and wet against taut nipples
even my breasts ache for you
hands that cup me so gently between the thighs
stroke me so softly
move in so easily
out so reluctantly
in and
out and
in
again and again and
again
grinding my hips against your
callused hand where it lays
moaning your name and obscenities
to the trees above our heads
my heat needs you and aches so sweetly
when you brush those long, hard fingers against it
my body arching, striving to meet your fingertips
your hands hold the strings; I am your puppet
and o GOD I burn where you’ve been; I’m wet…
All of this a memory
for now
until the next night we meet
and for now, I must be
satisfied with my own hands
as they mimic your own so clumsily.