She comes to me deep in the night, so late, so dark
that I can't see, but can only remember what she felt like.
Her figure comes to my room, quiet as a whisper
and just as sweet, with scents of lilac and mint.

With the slightest touch, her deft fingers find
the way to my arousal, working their way
around my tumescence and bringing me the
hardness I need to complete your task.

Mounting my body, you find my manhood
rusted from five long years of inactivity,
and yet you sheath it in your essence,
so wet and soft, like warm velvet.

Up and down, you ride my emotions
like gliding on a soft and wispy wind.
When you find your elusive pleasure
you vanish, like smoke on a gentle breeze.

Was it true, was it real, or was it a dream
that I yearn to be a part of every night?
It's been so long since I felt your touch
but I will always remember how it feels.

I'm not sure it was really you with me last night
for you exiled me five long years ago
and sent me to this emotional purgatory,
to a world without love and caring.

You gave no warning, no reason
for abandoning my love. It really
just happened, gaining momentum
as the years passed and you grew colder.

As I awaken, my mind tells me one thing
and my body tells me another.
My eyes give me another option
as I see the lipstick on my pillow.