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