The taste of the cold, wet saliva
still moist on the hard solid comfort
which is resting on my parched lips.
The smell that is indescribable,
but once felt,
impossible to forget.
The feeling of my body leaving
and my spirit coming alive
as I breathe in and out.
I suppose that if I tried harder,
this could become a frequent thing.
I guess that's what happened
And I think that if I was used to this feeling,
I would barely be able to wait for this to happen.
I guess this is how
But the lack of comfort and warm that comes with this
is not worth it in the end.
I guess this is what it feels like
to be you.