فى الغزل الصريح

No, it won’t be missed -the sweet orange whiffs of her breath I craved to steal

Nor the way the eye glistens upon the laugh

Even the softness of the skin veiling the clavicle isn’t enough to stir that pervading cryptic fear of the unknown

God forbids denying the ecstatic airiness of the company

Must not be enough

The fondness of the voice, Uh, should not be missed

Even recalling the tenderness of the veins thumbing delight through the neck blushing the cheeks into..

Why did I have to recall the cheeks

They shouldn’t be missed

On the other end of the invisible line, it was thought

Pathetic, pathetic.