I think I’m, hallucinating…
It’s not insanity,
Just a deep…
Longing.

I’m just missing you.

I woke up and
I thought I tasted
You on my lips.
But it was just the memory
From when you last touched it.

It was like you
Were on the tip
Of my tongue.
I felt you’re warmth.
Then I felt you wrap around me.
But I reached down
And you were gone.

My mind is playing tricks.
I should be taking sips,
Or dips into your bliss.
That’s what I miss.

But these hallucinations.
These figments of my imagination,
Recollections of your sensation
Has just left me here
With this… this…
Affliction.

Torturing me slowly.
It whispers that it knows me.
Not craving for it only,
But between these walls,
Mostly.
It’s not a possibility,
But damn I wish we could remotely.

So I’ll just distract myself.
And try to forget about being…

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An abstract image of a red drop splash of water on a red background which captures the high passion and sensuality that is portrayed in in this poem title High Lust
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High Lust

High lust consumes me, a new habit emerging. A voyage of desire, not in a rush, but in graceful anticipation. Visions of a fiend hooked on a familiar substance, lost in the taste of indulgence.