23

It’s not the sex I miss, although I think about it all the time
I can do six months without that; I can wank so I’m sure I’ll be fine
I realise just how much you make me laugh now I’m alone
But it’s not as if we never talk, we’ve got the net, the post, the phone
What I miss most is skin on skin, me pressed up close to you
The way you kiss me like no one else could ever ever do
I love the way our bodies fit, so different thought they are
Your smooth skin beneath my touch (as I reach around to snap your bra)