Photograph

You sent another one today.

Suggestive. Alluring. Beautiful.

I’ve saved it along with the dozens of others from you that I scroll through repeatedly.

Promising myself, someday, I won’t just be staring at your image but touching you.

Tracing the contours of your face with my fingers. Kissing your lips with mine.

Hearing and feeling you respond while I find your own sensitive spots.

Our sweat and heat combining when our bodies are close. Moving together or just lying still.

Your words whispered directly in my ear instead of through my phone while your fingertips caress my body like a fine-tuned instrument that only you know how to play.

But until then, I’ll stare at your pictures.

Of you licking your lips. Or that dazed look in your eyes after you’ve found release.

Even the natural smile while you’re working that tells me you’re thinking of me.

And probably staring at the ones I sent you.