Your chest pressed against mine. Your heartbeat radiating from deep within you, palpable on my skin. My lips on your neck. Your hands on my waist, my back, my face. Everywhere, always moving. My fingers lost in your hair. Intertwined. Ecstasy.
I shake it out of my head temporarily, but the picture is engrained in me, the associated emotions ready to surge again. The thoughts creep up when I least expect them. The fantasy, destined to remain a figment of imagination, never to enter the realm of reality. To watch it fade from mind again causes a hollow ache that I can't quite explain. A feeling of never-been and never-will. It doesn't hurt. It just is.
