Feel It

Here it comes.
Naked bodies.
A room for two
but one is here alone.
It could be lust
or love, just,
but more likely lonely hormones.

Oh feel it.
Feel it my love.
Can you feel the symmetry
of my solitary choice?
Can you hear the reverb
from my one voice?

Dust in the dusty parts.
Only cobwebs webbing in my heart.

Oh feel it.
Feel it my love.
Taste your own sweat.
Your dead curves.
You might as well feel something.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.