Loving You From The Past

Your skin on my skin.
Your voice in my ears.
Your tongue in my mouth.
Your fingers holding my fingers.

"Please don't let me go,"
I whimpered.

He kisses me.
He kisses me.
He kisses me.

With such innocence of our hearts.
I began to burst with confidence.

I grab his hands.
Show him my weak spots.
Tell him to blissfully kiss it.
Tell him to put his fingers like that on it.

He does what I tell him to.
Sudden burst of excitement,
bliss, and wondrous hearts
go flying through my body to his.

"This is wrong,"
he whispers into my ear.

"No, this is right,"
I correct him.

He unwrap his body from mine.
Run his fingers through his hair.
And gets up from the bed.

"Polly, you're married."

"By law. Not by heart."

"You don't love him?"

"Not the way I do for you."

He groans.
Puts on his clothes.
Throws me mine.

"Polly, put on your clothes. I'm taking you home."