lildoodles

the insides of my eyelids must be painted with your face, and my sheets woven with the ghost of your touch, because when I lie at night and try to close myself I am faced with your smile, caressed by your skin, wrapped in your warm and imaginary embrace. 'please. please.' I find myself whispering to the no one next to me, my lips pursed as if to kiss, my arms around air. 'I love you, I love you, I love you.' I murmur kindnesses you don't want from me anymore, as though if I dream hard enough I'll find I'm talking in your ear. sometimes if I close my eyes you talk back, tell me I'm beautiful, or just hold me tight and safe. but I'm naked an