Voluntarily Involuntary

My days seemlessly blend into the stream of consciousness that-With you so far away, I feel your lips on mine, your palm against the back of my head, your breath blowing away my messy hair that interrupts our kisses-

I lean forward to touch, hungrily wishing we shared 

But that would just be a formality, for the rest of them to know

How you’re the coffee and I’m the mug,

Or how we’re both the bone that the dog dug.

There’s no fire that’d put out the waters that send my flowing gasps to you and

I, back again,

Because you’re right here, right now; lying where I’m lying, writing this… reading this, living this.

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