Poetry

This Wanting

“So, please, I beg you.
Don’t ever let me go.”

This spell you put me under has left me wanting. For you. For your touch. To feel the heat rushing to the surface as my fingertips touch your skin. For the scent of you. That soothing scent of fall. For the sound of your heart beating as I press my ear to your chest. But most of all, I crave the feeling of being wrapped in your arms. The sense of peace and strength you offer when I have none left.

© Sarah Doughty
2019

So, please, I beg you.
Don’t ever let me go.

3 thoughts on “This Wanting”

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