I don't normally write poetry, with good reason, but this was something that came to me one day - no rhyming though and as yet untitled and likely to stay that way
The breeze lightly skims the nape of my neck
Its touch blowing away the remnants of your breath
that lingered there
now resigned to just a memory.
I shiver as I did then,
but this time without passion,
without longing, without desire.
Just an involuntary reaction to the cold
when once it was a shiver of anticipation.
I whisper to the wind to bring you home once more
to breathe away its hollow touch and fill the void within