I've forgotten how it feels to be touched.
The silk softness of skin gliding over mine that lingers mere moments till it fades.
Or the feeling of safety holding someone's hand either gripped tight with anticipation or held gently as we wandered aimlessly together.
I have forgotten what it is to be held, I can't remember the last time someone held me close, held tight just how I like.
A hug where I'm drawn in, my body against theirs, feeling every line and curve.
Or arms wrapped around my waist and mine around their neck, pulling closer till our lips touch.
And kisses started with a lingering glance at their lips, a fleeting look at their eyes that speaks without a word "kiss me".
A soft pressure that deepens with need and desire that catches my breath and takes it away till I'm giddy and weak.
I've forgotten what it is to be wanted, to be utterly taken over and consumed by lust and carnal passion, a need that pushes us both to the edge and brings a eutrophic release.
To bring pleasure, give it and receive it in equal measure.
I've forgotten what it is to be loved.
To hear the words 'I love you, I need you, I want you' and feel it. Understand it. Believe it.
I'm deprived of connection and ache for a soul to call out to mine.
Where they meet and recognise a flame as bright as their own and become one.
I've forgotten what love feels like, what it sounds like, what it sounds like.
But I know what it looks like, I can see it in you. It pulses and shines and reflects my wants and desires back at me.
I'm waking up. I'm scared. I'm confused, and I'm excited.
It's hope that maybe I will relearn how it feels.
And I'll remember how to love again.
