A touch.
(Wait…)
Tingling
lightly, oh so lightly over her skin.
(Don’t pull away, don’t leave…)
But he
does, and it’s gone as soon as it comes. He leaves her in limbo, ever wanting,
and ever not.
(John…)
It’s always
like this; the moments in-between are full of absence. Wanting, reaching,
barely touching… and then gone.
(I miss you…)
Little
sparks play around them, unforgiving in their splendor, always teasing, always.
(Please…)
No one else
tears at her so completely.
(Can’t love, can’t hate…)
She feels
as if she’s burning
(I love you, Elizabeth)
And
drowning.
(You know I can’t stay…)
The last
goodbye.
(No one ever does.)
It ends.
Still close, but a now her sea is black.
It’s just a touch, just a touch…
The sparks
still play around them, unforgiving in their splendor, always teasing.
Always.