Her heart was awaiting solace,
And my lips were ready to give it –
An empty hunger, needing filling,
Lashes heavy, tears were spilling,
It was a tight embrace.
Our heads entwined,
Our arms a dance of desperation,
Our lips carried us through a storm
A storm, a storm, a thunderstorm – and nobody watched –
Except my eyes as if outside my body
Because it wasn’t love.
There was love,
But the kiss was a gasp
It wasn’t honey, butterflies, summer roses,
It wasn’t chemistry, physical
Though it was.
My lips did not tingle,
My body was an empty shell,
Her body wrapped around it,
Embracing the sold individual’s soul
But tasting what was left: