I miss the touch. That rough touch.
You always gave me more than I needed, and yet, I always wanted more.
I wanted more from us! I wanted more than our bed.
I pant and relive every inch of that bed.
Rolling over, we would meet eye-to-eye.
You grab the back of my neck.
Pull me close, to kiss my panting mouth.
Sometimes in the middle of the night, I can still feel your mouth on mine…
You would grab my hips, pulling me closer, making me squeal with anticipation.
I think that’s what I miss the most…
I miss the moment right before the moment…
before the rough!