Moments with you are a precious gift; a treasure that I thieve, like a callous criminal, from someone else. You aren’t mine, not entirely. I must share my prize with another.
I snatch my time whenever I can, while you divide your time between two snatches.
I say I don’t mind, but still I crave to have you to myself. Because I can’t get enough of you.
No amount of kisses can slake my thirst for your mouth; I will still be left hungry for your lips, your tongue, your teeth.
No number of caresses can placate my need for your touch.
No matter how you deeply you fill me, I can never be entirely fulfilled.
These last few days I have robbed with no regret. Lost in your eyes, your arms, your mouth, I have had no care for anything or anyone else. I’ve weaved selfishly stolen seconds into a patchwork of memories, a quilt warm and soft, in which I want to stay wrapped. Hidden forever, with nothing to break this spell.
But our time is up. The hourglass has run down. Reality beckons its gnarled, hideous finger.
I don’t want to leave. I don’t want you to walk away. But I know that we both have to emerge again, and go back out into the world.