I think to myself, I just want one night of love with you. Just one. Just one night. A few hours. One hour, maybe two. That’s all I need. Not long.
I think this and then I go back to work. I work for a while. Then I find myself thinking it again.
Then I go back to work some more, only now I am aching and wet. Thinking I will mow the lawn even if it doesn’t need it, so I can exhaust myself and maybe the fire in my knickers.
Salad. I’ll make a salad. I’ll use balsamic vinaigrette and strawberries and romaine and that will satisfy my need for wanting to lick you from neck to thigh.
Tears well up into my eyes and I wonder why. Maybe I’m so wet it’s leaking out from my eyes.