There are bits of me that quake mid dream.
All places you haven't touched.
They are absent.
Just proof our our distance.
I'm looking for u under my skin.
Trying to find something you've left behind to tide me over.
But there's nothing but whitewash here.
I am spun into your undertow and the tide only seems to recede from where I'm standing.
I'm looking for something to close the distance.
Clutching your words,
hiding your voice in my palms.
Taking every bit of u that I can get.
Cherishing every inch of u from the parts I've memorized
to the lines I've yet to taste.