Cold rooms and whispers

Like waves washing in and out. The constant shift. Coming closer, yet slipping further away. Silence blaring louder than ever. Teeth bearing into our lips. Eyes screaming for more. Fingertips begging for another touch. Mouths in a cool room sending forth warm signals to one another. Soft whispers and cracked voices. Smoking too much. Too many anxious movements, placement of hands is a mystery. Comfort, uncomfortable. Uncomfortably comfortable. Wrap you up a little tighter, hating to see you shake. A couple brisk strokes through the hair to show I'm there and care. Everlasting. Share the last drag, save two for us. Love.