It's very hard to see images of intimacy shared so freely. Ads, work, dollars and cents. Of course it's sad. Yes my eyes get glossy, but I know in my heart what I shared was the first and probably only time that I will allow such an exchange. We may never see intimacy the same way, but it doesn't diminish the value I placed on each touch. (Each memory)
Cries do not extinguish passion.
Caring cannot ignore actions.
Kisses are not complete sentences.
Craving his love keeps gentle quakes coarsing through my body.
I hold on. I let go.
I wish upon the stars as the rain finds me looking up.
