When two fit well but remain apart, they are both left with a hole that none other can fill.

Again, I awaken with
you in my head. Wanting
still to laugh in
your embrace. Futile dilation
and curettage. Scrape
you, blast you
scrub you from my

soul.
Yet, there you are.
Your palm, white-hot,
glides across my belly;
your breath kisses
my inner thigh. I can
Smell our love, sweet
like honeysuckle.
Mature cream blossoms
ripening to amber.
Olfactory penetration
as you breathe it
into my nose through
my loins.
Tonight, you are here.
Comfortable and
well fitting upon
my chest. Breasts
tingle and nipples
alert as a memory of
us together chills
me. Lips touching
and phallus entering
as you breathe it
into my loins through
my mouth.
Sleep comes. I am
alone—but for
the thought of you.