Looking for Closure
By Lynxear
You are not in my thoughts. Only when I stare vacantly through a sunny window, watching two lovers holding hands, walking through a park, wind blowing a careless tress, as she slips an arm around his waist or lying on my bed, in that purgatory between sleep and consciousness, reflecting on your touch. I don't think of your embrace at all. The way you pulled me close, as you crept, cat-like, inching forward, up my reclined frame with your head buried in my chest, of your kiss, long and lingering, urgency of soft lips, probing tongue with a taste of honey as I drew your scent deep within me. I rarely ponder on our relationship. Reminded me of an arctic igloo, icy and brittle on the outside, but lined with a soft warm fur interior, the entrance now obscured by snow, piled deeper with each visit, still there in physical form, but uninviting, abandoned, no longer a safe refuge, from a cold and bitter world. No....I don’t think of us much at all... (c) Jim May/1999Written May 1st, 1999 © on Jan 15 2002 03:33 PM PST angst
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"You are not in my thoughts...."