Want

by Miriam English

We lie face to face in our warm bed.
I run my fingers down the soft,
    oh so soft, curve of your cheekbone
to your plump lips.
I brush them with mine.
My eyes are, hooded, drunken with pleasure.
Yours, deep dark portals to sweet human warmth, flood back into me.
Our trust in each other is complete, unquestioned, the deepest comfort.
Your arm at my back pulls us closer, your breasts pressing to mine
as you nibble and kiss my neck... exquisite, almost intolerable,
and I'm greedy for more...
You nip my ear as I hold you tight.
How could I be so lucky...
You leave a string of velvet kisses across my cheek to my eye.
Your mouth moves down to mine, and softly we kiss... slowly, softly,
Then ferocious, as an electric blue heat breaks; a wave in my belly.
My eyes are closed on tears of pure joy as I fancy yours must be too.
I open my eyes to bathe in your gentle heat again...
but am struck through the heart with icicle cold!!!
Uh! Self deceiver! Again the cruel joke...
I am alone still...
The sweet aftertaste lingers even over the bitterness.
Your imaginary visit will tantalise me again.
Never mind the pleasure-pain turned sharp and cold,
The hot tears of joy now frozen disappointment,
The sudden knot in my throat...
My fingernails cutting my palms...

Your phantom will return,
and I hate myself for wanting it, even as I fear it.
But at least my pale, weak life has this little...

Please return soon...