Postage And Stamps.

When you’re gone,
I suffer from dry lips
and starving eyes.
Reminiscing,
your hands
intertwined with mine.
Your body 
underlined just fine.

When you’re gone,
I suffer from lonely hands
and cold rooms.
Fantasizing.
I want to make a mess
of this room with you.
I want to make a mess
of you in this room.
Coloring every furniture
with your naked pose.


Enjoy more from Famous Steve

~ And More from Poetry After Dark

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