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Thinking, always thinking

I think about fucking you a lot
I think about your hands, your mouth –
Oh, God, do I think about your mouth…
More than that, I think about making love to you
I think about your eyes, your lips
I think about your skin, and your breath –
Your breath in my hair, my ears, ghosting my skin…
I think about the way I love you
I think about your hand in mine, your closed eyes
When you laugh, when you talk, when you sleep next to me…
I think about the way I miss you
I think about my world with you in it, yours with me in it
But when I do these things, I feel the way I had you
The way I no longer have you…
I feel the absence in my ears, in my room –
In your room and how I’m not there…
I feel it in my skin, in my bones
I feel it in the way my heart aches
I hear the emptiness in my missing laughter
I see it in the mirror and the missing shine I never recognized
I feel it in the missing touch of your skin on mine
And as much as these things plague me,
There’s nothing, absolutely nothing I can do
But think about you

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