you will never know
the touch of my cool hand
on your fevered cheek
you will never know
the press of my soft hips
against your hard belly
you will never know
the salt of my tears
on your hungry tongue
you will never know
the strength of my fingers
knotted fast into yours
you will never know
the reflection of your truest self
from the black mirrors of my eyes
she whispered
these things
lying on her side
curled like a fist
around a cobra
he did not hear
full as he was
of other voices
he did not care
empty as he was
of all their
dreams
©sdrogers 30 march 2014
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