What Am I Talking About

what am i thinking, should i call her to tell her to pass by. this is crazy. all i want is someone to go to bed with me and i try to make it sound so nice and pure and delicate. i do not want to sleep alone at night, not tonight and not many nights. i want to hold on to something, to someone, to breath and smell and feel and touch the warmth and skin and flesh, when i fall asleep and when i wake up. to wake up at night many times, to check if it still there next to me. ah, softness to bitterness; kisses to bites. and i shush myself; even though i know the answer, even though, the silent voice in me is begging for mercy, falling on his knees with the hands clutched together, tormented in the agony of loneliness, washed in tears of seclusion. my god. i can really make it work for me.
tiny, soft hairs on the back of the neck. faded scent of shampoo. soft skin and the warmth between blanket and arm, between arm and body. faint breath, dry lips. eyelids, eyebrows. the incredible, unspeakable tenderness of someone sleeping in your arms.