Skin Hunger

Skin Hunger
Virtual world.
Small rectangles of existence.
Tiny comfort zones.
Transient moments.
Just words.
The physical forgotten.
A distant, ancient memory,
A theoretical world.
Am I invisible or simply ignored?
My largest organ,
screaming for notice.
My lips ache.
My core is numb.
My skin is hungry.
To trace a finger pad over a scare, and hear the story.
A forehead kiss.
Sighs and moans in the dark.
To be filled and occupied.
Bask in masculine energy.
To be seen.
My skin is starved.
My soul dehydrated.
My heart aching.
~Payne Hawthorne

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