You.

It’s like I can feel you.

As if I could reach across the thin fabric of time and touch you.

Feel your warmth against my finger tips.

If I think hard enough, I can feel your heartbeat against the skin of my spine as you press me closer to you.

I close my eyes as I try to focus on your smell.

Focus on the featherless weight of your breath on the depth of my neck.

Closing my eyes helps.
Helps picture you in my mind’s eye.
A figure, a face, a smile.
Something.
Anything.
It searches relentlessly.
Looking for the memory of you, I’ve never had.

Thinking about you, I can feel my heart press within itself.

As if you were laying on top of me.

Seeing me with those eyes I’ve never known. 

But I do. I know you.

I know, I know you. But I can’t remember you.

Yet I can’t seem to forget you.

How are you so close that you can taunt me with your life.
With your breathless sighs that I swear I can feel.
But you’re so far.
I think of that distance and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.
You.
Someone I’ve never met.
All I can do is sit here, breath in your scent you left me from the time we didn’t meet, praying that you can feel me want you.

Wanting nothing more, than for you to meet me.