Air

I hold onto you

like I’m holding onto thin air; impossible to grasp.

I try to contain you in a glassed bottle

to find you leaking at the bottom.

I breathe you in and refuse to exhale,

but suffocation snaps me back to reality.

Do I have to spell it out for you?

– How I desperately ache for the physical version of you?

– How I yearn for that skin of yours?

Do I have to beg you for your touch?

Do I have to show you the weak vessel I have become in exchange for the love I still have for you?

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