Letters to a Future Love No.9

Dear Mr Maybe

It’s closing in on midnight and I’m feeling raw and kinda shaky, my skin hollow and too tight, and I’m finding it harder and harder to bare the physicality of my loneliness.

I’m wondering where you are, wondering how much longer I have to wait to find out how your palm fits against mine.

I want to lay my head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat with your fingers absently tangled in my hair.

I want to listen to the low rumble of your voice telling me about your day, about your dreams, about anything at all, while I curl up into your side and soak in the warmth of your body like a cat… would you pet me like one?

Would you run your rough hands over my soft skin until I’m arching up into your touch, nuzzling into your neck and with contented little sighs?

Would you pull me closer, tighter and I against you, tilting my chin up so you can taste the smile you left on my lips?It’s the middle of summer but the night has a chill that has me breaking out in goosebumps while I wish on stars.

There’s a powerful lunar event rising amount the clouds and if the right person comes along once in a blue moon then you should be here tonight, a solid warmth at my back while we wait for the eclipse.

Are you watching it too?


(Someday? Always?)


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