It’s one of those nights, where the day has worn on me long and thin, where my eyes burn but I push them to entertain me anyway.

It is one of those nights where I am needy and greedy and visceral with it to no one in particular.  It is one of those dangerous nights when all my pieces don’t want to add up yet I refuse to run on a deficit.

One of those nights where nothing is wrong but nothing is right.

I miss kissing, holding and being held.  Wanted, desired.

My bed is too cold and I am tired of warming it on my own.

These smoke and shadow memories make me sad.  I want a handful of “right” for a change.

Hug the one you’re with… for me.