“Pull me close; why is there so much space between us?
I want to close my eyes and feel when your fingertips brush my hip under the fan-cooled sheets; don’t you know you still kindle fire inside me? Why can’t you hear me a foot away, screaming for you to circle me in your arms? All you have given me is the freckled plain of your back, soft breaths collapsing your shoulder blades as if they were melting peaks on muscles made of granite.
How are you right there but not there at all?”
©️ Pearl Bayou 2018