I used to daydream
Of how I wish things could be
A quivering arm placed beside me
A tender touch of flesh
And an exhale with whispers
Coiling my ravaged skin

A voice whistling through my ear drums
So familiar
I cannot distinguish it from my own
The gentle stroke
First across my cheek
And then atop my skull
So passionate
Words need not accompany it

I used to dream of a passion
So deep inside me
It tickled my throat to breath