I know you and everything about you. I have memorized every line, every contour of your face in every given emotion and in every moment. I can feel the softness of your skin; I feel the pressure of your touch, the warmth of your heart. I know the way you move when we dance, the way you used to glow when I smiled. The way you read my soul through the glint in my eye. Or the frown on my face, your soft kiss and loving caress are as familiar to me as my own heart.
I only fail to know one thing; each night I still wonder if you even realize that I exist? Lying beside you where only a memory of the love we used to feel still exists. I find myself screaming…Touch Me Touch me! Softly slowly: with a heavy hand, with a gentle heart. Aggressively roughly with a smile swiftly barely hardly at all touch me. Leave your scent on my pillow and your sweat on my skin. Trace your bite on my shoulder. Chase your shadow from my door. Touch me. With an expert confident hand with a flutter of a heart frightened with a soul that has returned home.
Touch me.
Scar me.
Heal me.
Touch me…Love me still…
I ‘m still here…can you not see me?
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