Long distance relationships give us a hunger that people who live close together will rarely know. You can’t simply drive over to see them or arrange to meet in town. Skype is the backbone of your relationship. That hunger for them, for their every touch, their kisses, the scent of them – it becomes intense, a longing when you are apart. This poem is about the first night after you part when you are surrounded by reminders of that person.
I climb into bed on my own, the night after we last shared it together,
And I am instantly drawn to the pillow upon which last night your head rested.
I bury my nose in its inviting softness and draw in a lungful of air.
At once my mind fills with images of you:
There is your shampoo.
It reminds me of your long, silky hair splayed out in strands,
I feel its softness on my skin,
Sliding beneath my fingers
And tickling my shoulders.
I imagine taking you into my arms again,
Pulling you to me,
Feeling your soft lips brush my neck.
My heart skips a beat and I wrap my arms tight around you,
The rise of your breasts against my chest.
Your head leans forward onto my shoulder.
You let out a contented purr,
And push your hips forward to meet mine.
There is your deodorant.
It reminds me of your delicate limbs and those slender hands,
As you roll over and snuggle up to me,
Fingers gently stroking my chest.
I look at you and see a small smile play across your lips.
I can smell your body wash,
It reminds me of your skin, so smooth
Your soft neck and the curve at the small of your back
That drives me wild when you arch your body.
The warmth of your thigh as it crosses mine,
Your legs and mine intertwining.
Yes, your scent is on my pillow,
The sweat from the heat of our bodies as we lie there after sex,
Of that coming together,
And wrapped in each other’s arms.
The warmth of your body has gone – for now – yet your scents remain.
And as I lie there, alone and breathing them in as a reminder of you,
I finally realise:
I crave you