Vacancies
on the wings
of waking hours
adrift in thoughts
he’s the only one
that can fill
the vacancies
of this mind
lingering
in the essence
that he has become
i tremble
from depths
within my soul
i can feel
his fingers
tracing
the edges
of my existence
his every breath
rising with
anticipation
in whispers
against flesh
my pulse
racing
against
the thrusts
of time
climaxing
on the folds
of night
where dreams
bring his kiss
to awaiting lips
( simple bus scribbles)
Copyright © Sandra Adams | Year Posted 2019
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