(no subject)

[danicahawk]

Your voice cries out to me
Calling, softly
Begging for an answer
Our palms meet
Briefly
My own draws back
Recoiling from the smoldering heat of your touch
Flesh against flesh
Too much to handle
My answer lies
In the inability to stay
To choose
An awkward glance
Apologetic sighs
Nothing more to say but
I’m sorry.

not sure what brought that on