wild, not gentle

I used to ask for your pressence

and somehow I carry it with me

the memory of your eyes when you smile 

the way you talk to me 

still no words come out, 

only through your eyes. 

But it is never enough. 

I used to imagine your neck strocked by my lips and your smile and your hands on my hands.

I used to keep your smile in my socks. They are good quality socks, socks that keep smiles inside. 

still this fantasy will never survive 

not the smile 

not the eyes 

not the words 

my thoughts are wild, not gentle

my thoughts fly and imagine 

but I will take them out to the road ahead sooner or later. And while I do so, I will miss you, very much. Already do.

But it is a sorrow coming with the fantasy and they will need to surrender. My thoughts will need to surrender.