Oh sweet sweet misery!

Sweet misery it is. To think about the touch of your hands and your bright dazzling eyes fixed upon mine. Torture.  As the burning water aching against my skin, is your gentle “no idea” touch. Please, do touch again! Dizzy. Is how I feel when I hear you laugh. Again. To run away and hide from this wanting, that I wish I could. Inside out, I am consumed. To never know what to expect, I expect. Baring no antidote, I drink from you. Inevitable danger, I am engaged more than I wish it to be true.