Thoughts of you

I drank your half-finished bottle of water; hoping to taste you on the plastic. It was not enough to satisfy my thirst. I put the bottle in recycle. 

I saw your cup on the counter, a smear of lipstick on the rim; to my tongue, it tasted of the memory of your lips. My heart melted and dripped out my eyes, sniffing I placed it in the dishwasher. 

I smelled your perfume on my t-shirt; holding it to my face; I could feel your gossamer presence lightly on my chest.  My heart lept and stumbled as I dropped it in the washing machine. 

I heard your voice in the song I heard on the radio; sultry and contralto, so quiet I leaned into the speaker to hear you more. Like cats paw it caressed my ear, but it ended, having never said my name. 

I felt the memory of your velvet skin on my fingers; laying in bed I raised them to my cheek. I fell asleep and dreamed of the quiver of your thigh.  

Waking with a smile; I greeted the day with melancholy. 

Time goes forward, the memories fade, but hope is eternal. 

©The Autobiography of Mr. Perfect 2015

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