Reaching out my hand, I know the bed beside me will be empty but it doesn’t hurt quite so much today.
You are so close now.
The last Friday morning in a few weeks where I will wake up alone under this duvet.
If I keep my eyes closed, even though my fingers touch only empty mattress, in my head I can feel you.
The soft skin of your flank, the strong musculature of your thigh.
And, turning over to snuggle into the warmth of your freckle-spattered back, each mole indelibly printed on my brain.
My imagination takes over, one virtual hand strokes across the crunchy curls of you chest and down across the soft, pod of belly.
This is my man, I know the textured skin of each and every body part well enough to foster my own fantasy, visualise and experience mentally the physical pleasure of a thousand interactions.
But it doesn’t mean that I don’t need you here with me.
Just 36 hours and counting…