I didn’t want her to leave,
but I knew that she had to go.
Somewhere between the glasses
of red wine and the silent moments
of limbs connecting underneath sheets
is when I realized that her body
would be the only body that I would
ever want to explore by touch.
When she whispers my name,
I can hear comfort in her voice.
I feel longing when my hands
are pressed against hers.
I never want her to leave my side.
When she tells me that she
has to go back, I wish that she
would build walls of safety
with the lining of my heart.
So that way when she says
that she has to go home,
she could retreat into my core;
always remaining as a part of me.
Published on January 05, 2014 19:57