A cry of I miss you

With every descend of the dark sky, I ache for you. I crave; yearning for your warmth. The touch of your hand, the sound of your voice, the heat of your presence – they get a little more tender in the cold of the night melting my longings away. Like a flame that warms an entity, the cold entombs itself in light of your presence. And the soft touch of your skin, gently pressed against mine, is the lullaby that puts me to sleep while resurrecting my being.

2 comments
  1. Anonymous said:

    This is really meaningful!

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