I can still feel you.
I can still feel the curvature of your back against the undersides of my forearms.
I can still feel your hands resting, pressing, sliding against my chest.
I can feel your legs around me.
Your neck against my lips.
I can feel your knuckles.
And how tightly they locked between mine.
I can still feel the gentleness with which you whispered my name.
As though you were afraid that it would shatter if spoken too quickly.
I can still feel your searing gaze.
Your hands pulling through my hair.
Your body against mine.
The way that you asked for more.
I can still feel your smile, twisted in ecstasy.
I can still feel everything.
I can still feel everything, and it makes me want to tear off my skin.