Sunday, December 11, 2005

Touch

I rub the cream between my palms, warming it with the heat of my body before gently reaching out to touch your back. As I slowly rub the cream into your cracked and broken skin, you shiver. You chill so easily these days.

It has been days since we have made physical contact skin to skin. Last night, you moved up against my bare body for warmth and wrapped my arm over your arm and around your chest. Your poor, sad breasts, shrunken and diminished, barely touched my arm through the layer of flannel that is your nighttime skin.

It was not always thus. When we were in the spring of our love, we could not get enough of each other’s skin. We lay in the loft, under the eaves, making slow love while the gentle spring rain played on the leaves of the birch trees. I looked down to see my cock disappearing deep within you.

Touch. How I miss it.

2 Comments:

Blogger barefoot_mistress said...

Oh sweetie, I am so sorry for what you are going through. Yet, I am happy that your wife has you to care for her...to love her, to be there for her.....I wish you all the best, and comfort. Peace

3:38 PM, December 15, 2005  
Blogger brianna said...

i got all teary-eyed reading this. very eloquent.

2:54 PM, January 09, 2006  

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