Still Alone

Time is leaking away from me. I do not know where it goes, but it seeps from my every pore. Sleep feels like drowning most nights. My eyes burn as my eyelids sweep over them. I want endless hours, endless moments. Getting lost within your sheets is dangerous. Yet I long for such a time. Everyone wants to be worshiped, it is so true no matter how hard we try and tell ourselves otherwise. There are just times, certain days, where just being loved--perhaps even over loved sounds ideal. To be kissed all over, to be rubbed, and touched. It is not dirty, it is not quick and full of fleeting passion. It is worship. Slow and fulfilling, where you can close your eyes and just feel that warmth pooling in your stomach; feel that heat pulled over your limbs. Lips that pull slightly at the corners--not quite a smile.