It really is bittersweet, isn’t it? You and I forever entwined.
I think about your hands all too often. How they would gently hold and caress mine. I think about you as a whole. How you pull me in with a silent whisper to my soul.
I think about your hair. Both hidden and displayed. I picture each gap between fingers filled with the locks you grow and shed.
I imagine pulling you to me by the bottom right of your shirt. Our hips collide and now we’re closer. I always have a faint waft of your scent. It’s natural pheromone so pleasantly noxious.
I think “how bittersweet to want you and need you” it tastes like forever and genuine truth. Perpetually craving its ache from my sweet tooth.