Yearning

Yearning for your touch,
your taste,
your tease.

Part these sheets like holy waters,
let my fingers trace the sermon
written in the curve of your spine.

Desire ignites—
I crave you.

Yet here I sit,
alone,
penning this verse,
watching the space where you should be.

Why are our worlds
so near,
yet so distant?

Naked, I wait.
A believer, undone.