I lay awake

against the bitter cold

of your silent conversations

numbing my very presence

my inner toes still wringing from the morning dew

my weary limbs trembling more perilously

than the resentment of yesterday's regrets

scribbling down every memory of you

the scent of your pitch black skin

mystified deep inside the pages of your flesh

beautiful bewilderment

as I yet again run to my favourite place

your inner thighs