Wishful.

by Somethinger

I would wrap you up, you know.
One of those nights when you need no kiss or a breath down your neck.
Where your hug is just a clinging of bodies and does not question what I need and have. One of those nights when I am not your girl but I am your float your life your ability to breathe. One of those nights where I am the audience listening breathlessly to your breathing. The silence is broken by a mumble of assurance that you are still awake, yes I am still awake. And then a lapse into the warmth electricity passes on. Oh how we have evolved. Individual but knotted into each other’s every thought. You in me in you in me. I am an infinite thought and you are my eternity.
One of those nights where gods and ghosts stop existing. Human is divine, warm and pliable. In your existence you find solace and comfort. In your method I find my madness.
One of those nights where I anchor you to the corners of my thoughts. Where you stretch over me like a canvas – absorbing every idea and moment and joule that tries to escape me.
One of those nights when the dark of the sky isn’t dark enough, sleep isn’t deep enough, a song lost its tune and a clock without a tic. One of those nights, days, years, infinities that I will spend spent by my yearning of your want for company.
I crave you, silly boy, quiet man, loving beast – as human craves human, skin craves skin, in the basest of my dreams and most convoluted desires.

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