The Longing

In the darkness he can still smell her scent...the marks she left behind......
Waking alone and wanting her.....
Lonelyness unkind......
The scent of her on the bedding, the marks she made while raking his skin.....
He'd sell his motal soul to the devil...for a moment with her again.....


Twister

very nice.....

Now that's the kind of poetry I like -- clear, obvious what you mean, short, and nicely written. :)

I like it.

Can associate with those sentiments; that empty space so simply described.

A gentle hug to fill a tiny portion of it.....

cariad

Gorgeous.:)