If you were here tonight, my love,
I’d let my fingers trace your skin,
soft whispers caught in tangled sheets,
where dreams and burning passions begin.

I’d pull you close, my breath on yours,
our hearts a wild, frantic beat.
Your lips would find the places hidden,
where my yearning and your fire meet.

I’d undress the shadows from your soul,
unwrap the layers, one by one,
until you shivered beneath my touch,
our bodies melting in the sun.

If you were here, I’d show you fire,
a flame too fierce to hold or tame.
The heat between us, raw and wild,
a storm no whisper could contain.

My hands would roam your hungry skin,
my mouth would taste your deepest need.
I’d leave no secret unexplored,
no silence left un-freed.

But here I lie in empty sheets,
your ghost my only bedmate now.
I ache to feel your burning hands,
to hear your tender vow.

If you were here, I’d lose myself,
in kisses deep, in whispered moans.
But all I have is aching air,
and shadows carving stones.

I want to scream your name aloud,
to feel you close, to lose control.
But loneliness is all that stays,
a hollow echo in my soul.

If you were here tonight, my love,
I’d burn with passion, wild and true.
But you are far away, and I’m alone,
just me, this bed, and missing you.
   

My fingertips once soothed the ache,
a tender game my heart would fake.
But now they shake, half ghost, half flame,
no touch can ever feel the same.

Not enough. Not nearly near
the fire that scorches, year to year.
This hunger isn't soft or shy,
it howls beneath a hollow sky.

I reach for you through screens and sheets of air,
but all I grasp is vacant stare.
No breath, no skin, no whispered sin,
just silence pulsing deep within.

Aroused, abandoned, left to burn,
each sigh denied, no sweet return.
I crave a hand, a voice, a bite,
but only shadows hold me tight.

The hunger twists, it bites, it claws,
ignores my pride, defies my laws.
My hips still move as if you’re near,
but all I feel is unmet fear.

I moan into the midnight dark,
a sound that fades without a mark.
The walls don’t echo what I say,
desire just curls and slips away.

My body aches, my soul does too,
it wants a love that cuts right through.
Not just a graze, not passing play,
but something fierce that wants to stay.

No hand to catch my trembling fall,
no lips to taste, no voice to call.
Only this bed, this heat, this plea,
this slow, decaying fantasy.

I arch for ghosts, I beg for bliss,
I kiss the air, pretend it’s kiss.
But no one's there, and no one's real,
just thorns beneath what I still feel.

I'm aroused, so deep it breaks,
abandoned in the need that shakes.
A fire too wild, a storm too deep,
a dream I touch but cannot keep.

So here I lie, my limbs like tide,
with loneliness I cannot hide.
A prisoner of unsated need,
half open rose, half heart that bleeds.
  

The lace clings tight against my skin,
a second layer soft and thin,
but it can’t hold the ache inside,
the kind no silk or thread can hide.

I wear it just for you to see,
through glass and wires and glowing screen.
You can’t reach through, you can’t draw near,
but still I crave you, still you’re here.

The fabric hugs like you once might,
a poor excuse for heat and bite.
My lips are red, my breathing slow,
for every pulse you’ll never know.

I pose for pixels, arch and moan,
while knowing I’m still all alone.
You watch, you want, but cannot stay,
your hands are always worlds away.

I dress myself in hunger’s thread,
a quiet ache that leaves me red.
Each bow I tie, each strap I tease,
is meant for you, to make you freeze.

But when the camera fades to black,
no arms reach out to pull me back.
Just lace and longing, left behind,
a hollow heat you’ll never find.

I want your breath against my spine,
not just these words and touchless time.
I need your hands to roam and trace,
not just the shape of woven lace.

Alone, I writhe for what’s unseen,
a prisoner of this glowing screen.
You own me in a distant way,
yet never here, you never stay.

So here I sit, wrapped tight and bare,
with longing stitched in every stare.
A sensual ache I can’t unlace,
a ghost of you in silk and grace.
  

My thighs tremble like gathering skies,
clouds thick with craving I can’t disguise.
A storm brews low inside my hips,
its thunder rumbling on parted lips.

I arch in silence, eyes half-shut,
the need, the ache, a greedy glut.
Hands wander slow, but they’re just mine,
no warmth, no weight to intertwine.

I am soaked in want, in burning ache,
a hunger no fantasy seems to break.
A body that pleads for skin on skin,
but no one out, no one in.

The lightning flashes behind my eyes,
but nothing real, just quiet sighs.
No crashing thunder, no wild flood,
just pulsing need beneath my blood.

I touch, I writhe, I almost scream,
then fall apart inside this dream.
For what is heat with no return?
What good is fire when none will burn?

This body is full, so full of need,
but I am alone in every plead.
No storm arrives, no lover stays…
just aching thunder that never rains.
  

The air is thick with what just passed,
a moan, a sigh, a touch too fast.
Desire bloomed, then curled and broke,
a spark snuffed out in rising smoke.

The fire climbed, I met the flame,
whispered your pixelated name.
But when it died, so did the spell,
and I was left in my own shell.

The sheets still cling, they tell the tale
of passion brief and colors pale.
A ghost of heat, a breath that’s gone,
replaced by silence, stretching on.

The screen still glows, but you’re not there,
just static love in empty air.
You saw the peak, you watched me fall,
but couldn't catch me, couldn’t call.

No murmured “stay,” no chest to find,
no hand to still my aching mind.
I touch myself, but not to feel,
just to pretend this ache is real.

My body shakes, then slowly stills,
a haunted hush that longing fills.
My pulse retreats, my breath is slow,
but there’s no warmth, just undertow.

I close my eyes but not to rest,
just press my palm against my chest.
It echoes hollow, beats too loud,
a fragile song beneath the shroud.

That moment after all has peaked
feels colder than the warmth I seek.
The pleasure came, the high was brief,
and left me drowning, not in relief.

But in a silence far too sharp,
a post-climax that breaks the heart.
Not release, just ache, just proof,
that all I touched was screens and truth.

My soul curls in, my breath is slow,
adrift in lonely afterglow.
No lips to press against my skin,
no weight, no whisper tucked within.

The video fades. The sound is still.
But I’m left bare, and wanting still.
I reached through glass for something more,
but only touched a closing door.

A touch that starts and ends with me,
a love unseen, no unity.
I rise, I fall, then softly cry,
and curl into the space you deny.
  

My body is a canvas of divine intent,
each curve and hollow heaven sent.
A sculpture carved in heat and ache,
desire painted in every quake.

I stand in lace, a living dream,
a masterpiece that dares to gleam.
My thighs hold storms, my lips hold fire,
my gaze alone could spark desire.

But no one watches. No one sees.
No whispered praise, no shaky knees.
No hands to trail this sacred skin,
no worship of the world I’m in.

I light the candles, slow undress,
perfume pools on my soft dress.
I arch for ghosts, for shadows near,
but none will touch, and none appear.

I know I’m art. I know I’m gold.
But beauty’s worth grows sharp and cold
when no one comes to fall or kneel,
when no one dares to beg or feel.

A gallery with empty halls,
my echo trapped between the walls.
I bloom alone, I ache complete,
a masterpiece no heart will meet
  

The music plays inside my head,
an empty room becomes my bed.
I sway and spin, my body glows,
dancing for shadows no one knows.

No eyes to watch, no hands to hold,
just silent walls and stories untold.
I move with fire, fierce and free,
but no one claps, no one sees me.

Each step a cry, each turn a plea,
for someone’s love, for company.
But in this lonely, hollow space,
I’m just a ghost, a fading face.

The dance goes on, my secret show,
a lonely heart that few will know.
I’m dancing for shadows, all alone,
wishing to be seen, wishing for home.
  

All the love I hold inside,
nowhere left to pour or hide.
A heart that beats with fierce desire,
burning bright, a lonely fire.

I whisper sweet words into air,
but no one’s waiting anywhere.
I call you “sweetheart,” soft and low,
but there’s no one here to know.

The tenderness, the gifts I bring,
fall silent, lost without a ring.
My love is vast, a flood untamed,
but sweethearts’ names remain unnamed.

I give my heart to empty space,
longing for one warm embrace.
Sweetheart to no one, aching so,
with love too big for me to hold.
  

I paint my lips a dangerous red,
velvet fire that begs to be fed.
Each stroke a whisper, soft and slow,
a promise wrapped in molten glow.

I trace the curve of my own mouth,
imagining your tongue's slow route,
how it would taste, how it would tease,
stirring heat that won’t appease.

My fingers tremble, tracing thighs,
under lace where secrets lie.
I press my body close and bare,
to sheets that hold no answering stare.

The room is thick with heavy breath,
my own sighs rise in lust and death.
I’m aching, burning, wanting more,
but all I find is cold, closed door.

No hands to pull me from my skin,
no lips to taste my secret sin.
I’m dressed for love that’s never come,
a solo queen, undone, undone.

I lick my lips, still slick with red, 
and think of all the things unsaid.
How you might trace that scar below,
where only silence dares to go.

My body trembles, skin on fire,
a hunger deep, a fierce desire.
Yet only shadows dance with me,
no one to touch, no one to see.

I ache for more than just this shade,
for lips that know the games I’ve played.
For arms that pull me, wild and close,
to silence broken by your ghost.

So here I stand, lipstick in place,
a burning fire with no embrace.
Sexy, lonely, lost in dreams,
trapped inside these whispered screams.
  

I drape myself in crimson lace,
a goddess carved from satin grace.
My mirror sighs, it knows my name,
a woman wrapped in want and flame.

My lips are painted, ripe, undone,
my thighs are soft as sinking sun.
Each step I take, a silent plea,
see this hunger, come to me.

I’m power pulsing under skin,
a moan, a spark, a need within.
The way I touch, the way I breathe,
it begs for hands that never leave.

I dance for no one but the dark,
igniting fire, but not the spark.
My fingers trace what love should find,
but no one’s body meets with mine.

The heat is real, the ache is loud,
but I perform without a crowd.
No gasps, no groans, no whispered name,
just echoes wrapped in candle flame.

I feel like sin, like holy gold,
too wild to tame, too soft to hold.
And yet, despite the heat I give,
I burn alone. I break. I live.

I’m feel sexy I fucking do,
but still alone sad but true.
I pour out lust like vintage wine,
but no one's lips will meet with mine.

So here I lay, in lingerie,
a prayer, a poem, a soul in fray.
Alive with fire no one has known,
so goddamn sexy,
but still so alone.
  

I whisper soft things to the dark,
moans and secrets, a muted spark.
Words I wish could find your mouth,
a silent song that travels south.

My breath is warm, my body bare,
longing for someone who isn’t there.
I speak my need into the night,
hoping shadows catch my flight.

Those whispered sins, unspoken pleas,
dance like ghosts on midnight seas.
I want to moan what’s in my soul,
but darkness keeps it all untold.

A private dance, a secret flame,
calling softly your forgotten name.
I whisper to the dark alone,
aching for a love unknown.
  

The moonlight drapes my naked skin,
a glowing heat that burns within.
Sweat beads glisten, soft and slow,
in a dance only I can know.

No voice calls out to claim my name,
no hands to set my soul aflame.
Just quiet breaths and aching fire,
a lonely, fierce, forbidden desire.

I move alone beneath the stars,
tracing dreams behind these bars.
The night is thick with want and need,
but no one’s here to hear me plead.

Sweating under moonlit skies,
I’m lost in lust and silent cries.
A burning heat, a lonely fight,
pleasuring shadows in the night.
  

I trace my lips, a slow caress,
as moonlight lingers on my dress.
The room is still, the world asleep,
but I am fire, dark and deep.

My fingers glide like whispered sin,
a dance that stirs the heat within.
I close my eyes, pretend it's you,
but all I feel is velvet blue.

The air grows thick with every breath,
a hunger humming under death.
My skin remembers how it burned,
the phantom touch my soul has yearned.

I bite my lip, I arch, I sigh,
each movement echoes, breath runs dry.
The mirror watches, just like you
would have, if only you knew.

I play the game, slow and divine,
my hands, my lips, the pulse, the wine.
I tease the edge, delay the fall,
a goddess rising in the sprawl.

No name is moaned, no lover's grace,
just shadows dancing on my face.
I fill the silence with my sound,
the only heartbeat left around.

My thighs, a temple made to crave,
yet all that worship is self-brave.
I part like petals, soft and bare,
to no one’s touch, just open air.

Each gasp a note of aching need,
each shiver sewn into the seed
of solitude that blooms in heat,
a symphony where want and sweet
collide like lightning in my spine,
a sacred, sultry, solo shrine.

I rise, I writhe, I beg, I burn,
for what I give, I don’t return.
The only hands that trace my curves
are mine, and still, they find the nerves.

No witness here, no vow to keep,
just satin sheets and secrets deep.
I kiss my wrist, I stroke my thigh,
a love that needs no alibi.

Alone, yet more than just alone,
a queen unthroned but still full-grown.
In shadows, yes, but crowned in flame,
I moan without a whispered name.
  

My skin is hungry, aching bare,
it craves a touch that isn’t there.
The sheets beneath me whisper low,
a silent voice I long to know.

I trace the curves with trembling hands,
imagining your soft commands.
The heat that rises, slow and sweet,
in empty rooms where shadows meet.

Each nerve alight with desperate fire,
a burning, raw, unquenched desire.
I want your fingers on my skin,
to pull me close, to pull me in.

But all I feel is cold, alone,
the ghost of touch, the hollow tone.
The sheets could hold a lover’s plea,
if only they could feel for me.

I ache for warmth, for lips to trace,
a tender kiss, a sweet embrace.
Yet hunger lingers, unfulfilled,
a longing that won’t be stilled.

My skin is hungry, soft and wild,
a desperate, aching, lonely child.
Waiting for a love unknown,
to call this empty body home.
  

The fire burns, a scorching flame,
a whispered moan, I call your name.
Skin on skin, a frantic dance,
a fleeting taste, a stolen chance.

Then silence falls, a choking weight,
the empty space that seals my fate.
No tender words, no gentle sound,
just hollow echoes all around.

The rush fades fast, leaves me bare,
alone in sheets that know no care.
The afterglow turns cold and thin,
a ghostly void that pulls me in.

I crave your touch, your voice, your breath,
but find instead the silent death.
A moment lost in aching space,
a lonely void I can’t erase.

Choked by silence, gasping pain,
the sweetness drowned in endless rain.
I reach for you, but find no air,
just empty nights and cold despair.
  

I kissed my pillow soft and slow,
imagining lips I’ll never know.
A tender press, a whispered sigh,
a stolen breath, a secret lie.

No hands to hold, no lips to meet,
just quiet nights and empty sheets.
I close my eyes to feel your skin,
a phantom touch beneath my chin.

The pillow holds my silent dreams,
a shadow dance, a lover’s gleam.
I trace the shape of what’s not there,
a ghostly kiss upon thin air.

My heart aches deep with want and need,
a hunger no one else can feed.
I kiss my pillow, soft and true,
pretending, baby, it’s you.

A moment caught between desire,
a burning, quiet, lonely fire.
The ache that only silence knows,
the love that fades but never goes.
  

I paint my lips with crimson fire,
a ritual wrapped in deep desire.
Perfume trails a whispered sigh,
a scent to lure a ghost nearby.

Lace caresses skin so bare,
a tender armor worn with care.
Each stroke, each scent, a secret plea,
a silent dance, just pretty for me.

I dress the part, I play the role,
a broken queen trying to feel whole.
The mirror smiles, but knows the truth,
a fragile heart beneath the youth.

I’m pretty for me, but still alone,
in rooms where silent tears are thrown.
A beauty ritual, bittersweet,
that ends where shadow and sorrow meet.

Makeup masks the ache inside,
but cannot stop the tears I hide.
A lonely song beneath the skin,
a longing for what’s never been.

Pretty for me, and no one else,
a story written on empty shelves.
I wear the mask, I hide the pain,
waiting for love that won’t remain.
  

It’s more than lust that burns inside,
a hollow need I cannot hide.
Between my legs, the ache runs deep,
a secret pain I carry, keep.

It’s not just fire, hot and wild,
but something softer, undefiled.
A desperate want to be seen,
to be touched where I’ve never been.

Not just skin, but soul laid bare,
a silent cry for someone to care.
To know me deeper than the flesh,
to hold my heart within their mesh.

The ache is more than just desire,
it’s the need to feel entire.
To lose the loneliness I bear,
to find a love that’s truly there.

But here I lie, alone and torn,
between the sheets where dreams are born.
The ache persists, the silence screams,
a lonely river of unmet dreams.

I want to burn, but also heal,
to touch and be touched, to truly feel.
Not just flesh, but every part,
the ache between my legs, my heart.
  

I post the pictures, dressed to thrill,
a silent scream, a desperate will.
Flashing skin and hungry eyes,
all for someone who never replies.

A thirst trap set, a siren’s call,
for shadows that don’t see me at all.
Likes and hearts that don’t come through,
for a ghost that I wish was you.

I’m drenched in lust, but soaked in pain,
performing for a ghost again.
The screen glows bright, but warmth is cold,
in this empty story left untold.

My body aches to be desired,
but no flame is ever fired.
I crave the touch that isn’t near,
longing for someone not here.

Each picture posted, bait cast wide,
but all I catch is empty tide.
A trap of want, a hollow show,
a silent cry no one will know.

I’m just a ghost behind the screen,
a hunger caught in endless dream.
A thirst trap set, but set alone,
for someone who’s forever gone.
  

I wear this dress like armor tight,
a satin shell for lonely nights.
Zipper locked with silent plea,
but no one’s here to unzip me.

The fabric clings to every line,
a second skin that’s not divine.
It hides the fire beneath my skin,
a secret place you’re not within.

I imagine hands that should undo,
the threads that hold this heart untrue.
Fingers trailing slow and deep,
waking dreams I’m forced to keep.

No one’s here to break the seal,
to strip away what I conceal.
The dress stays on, a bittersweet cage,
holding back my silent rage.

I long to feel that trembling pull,
to melt away, to lose control.
But here I stand, alone, confined,
a dress and heart both intertwined.

No one to unzip me, to set me free,
just fantasies that drown in me.
The fabric tight, the silence loud,
I wear this dress, unseen, unbowed.
  

The music hums, a fragile tune,
I sway alone beneath the moon.
In soft silk and whispered air,
I dance slow, in my underwear.

No hands to guide this trembling frame,
no lover calling out my name.
Just empty space and hollow air,
a dance with shadows everywhere.

I close my eyes to feel your touch,
imagined hands that mean so much.
Fingertips like gentle flame,
tracing curves that call your name.

My breath is shallow, wild, and sweet,
my heart in sync with aching beat.
I spin and sway, I bend and lean,
a lonely queen without her king.

The mirror holds my secret show,
but only I can feel the glow.
A dance for two that’s danced alone,
a whispered hope I make my own.

Each movement aches with silent pain,
a yearning that I can’t explain.
In underwear, I spin, I sway,
dreaming you might come my way.

But when the music fades away,
I’m left with night and cold dismay.
No hand to hold, no lips to meet,
just empty air beneath my feet.
  

This bed was made for two, they say,
a place where love is meant to stay.
But only my body makes its mark,
alone within the silent dark.

The sheets still smell like dreams unshared,
soft whispers lost, no one cared.
I trace the space where you should lie,
but find just cold and empty sky.

My skin remembers phantom touch,
a hunger burning, aching much.
I reach for warmth that isn’t there,
a ghost, a shadow, thin as air.

The pillow waits for lips to meet,
but only bears my breath’s repeat.
A bed built wide to hold us both,
but I’m alone, the silent oath.

I crave a hand to hold at night,
to chase away the lonely fright.
But only silence fills the room,
and stretches wide the looming gloom.

This bed built for two,
holds only me,
and aching, empty reverie.
  

The room is still,
but for the sound of me,
breathing slow,
a lonely melody.

No whispered sighs to chase the dark,
no gentle hands to leave their mark.
Just hollow air and empty space,
a silent, cold, unyielding place.

My breath, it fills the quiet room,
a steady pulse in endless gloom.
I listen close, but hear no more,
just echoes of what came before.

The walls don’t answer when I call,
they only watch me stumble, fall.
Each inhale heavy with desire,
each exhale feeding lonely fire.

I want to scream, to shake the night,
to break the silence with my fight.
But only breath replies to me,
a ghost of who I used to be.

The sound of me, alone and bare,
fills spaces no one else can share.
I’m here, I’m raw, I’m aching deep,
in quiet rooms where shadows sleep.
  

I’m dripping in want, a fiery flood,
skin flushed deep beneath the blood.
Heat pools heavy, thick and sweet,
but all this longing stays incomplete.

My body hums with silent cries,
a symphony of desperate sighs.
Fingers trace the burning trail,
but no one comes to lift the veil.

I ache for lips that never press,
for hands to tame this wild distress.
The air is thick with silent moans,
but still I’m here, all alone.

The pulse of want, a raging sea,
crashing waves inside of me.
I burn, I'm thirsty, I crave, I ache,
but all I have are my own hands to take.

My breath is shallow, sharp, and tight,
a prisoner of my own night.
No tender touch to ease the blaze,
just empty rooms and hollow days.

Dripping in want, but left to dry,
a lonely flame that won’t comply.
I’m broken, raw, a restless fire,
yearning for a true desire.
  

I caught myself in soft lit glow,
a moment’s spark I longed to show.
The curve, the smile, the fire in me,
a whispered glimpse no one would see.

Fingers trembling, phone in hand,
I traced the edges, took my stand.
A frame of flesh, of heart, of heat,
a secret world, my soul’s retreat.

But then the fear crept in like night,
the doubt that steals the tender light.
No one to hold this fragile spark,
no trusted eyes to pierce the dark.

So with a sigh, the image fades,
deleted where my secret waits.
A truth too raw to ever share,
a silent scream lost in thin air.

I keep my hunger locked inside,
a burning fire I cannot hide.
The picture of my lonely flame,
untouched, unnamed, without a name.

I sent no one the picture, why?
Because to share is to deny
the ache that lives beneath my skin,
the loneliness I hide within.

So here I am, alone and bare,
with secrets only shadows wear.
A photo lost, a love unseen,
my heart, my soul, my silent dream.
  

I trace the curve of my thigh alone,
fingers wander where flesh has known
the promise of lips that never came,
a whispered touch without a name.

The skin is soft beneath my hand,
but cold without your gentle stand.
I ache for fingers, slow and sweet,
to roam this curve, to find, to meet.

Each stroke a prayer, a silent plea,
for someone who’s not here with me.
I long to feel your breath, your heat,
to melt into that rhythm’s beat.

But all I find is aching space,
an empty, cold, deserted place.
My own hands trace the longing deep,
while shadows in my heart still creep.

The curve of my thigh, a secret kept,
where silent tears have often wept.
A place where love should softly stay,
but loneliness won’t fade away.

I yearn for lips that should have kissed,
a touch I ache to not have missed.
The curve of my thigh tells my pain,
a story written in silent rain.

I’m wrapped in skin, both warm and cold,
a tale of passion left untold.
I trace, I crave, I ache, I sigh,
the lonely curve of my own thigh.
  

I stand stripped bare beneath the light,
naked, but lost within the night.
Every curve and trembling skin,
a secret I’m too scared to begin.

Exposed in ways no clothes could hide,
yet unseen, I slowly slide
into shadows no one dares
to touch, to hold, to see my cares.

My body burns with hungry need,
but no one watches, no one feeds.
I’m raw and open, cracked and torn,
a rose in frost, forever worn.

I reach for eyes that never find
the depths beneath my fragile mind.
A face that yearns to be embraced,
but only meets an empty space.

I’m screaming loud in silent screams,
wrapped in half forgotten dreams.
The skin that begs to be adored
is cloaked in shadows, unexplored.

Naked, but not truly seen,
a ghost inside a broken dream.
I long for someone’s hungry stare,
to strip my soul, to show they care.

But here I lie, alone, unseen,
a queen without her lover’s gleam.
My naked heart, a secret kept,
in darkness where the lonely wept.

I’m flesh and fire, ache and bone,
but still, I’m standing all alone.
Naked in a world that’s blind,
invisible, and left behind.
  

I peel the straps with trembling hands,
a ritual I’ve learned to dance,
the slow release of tender skin,
but no one’s here to trace within.

The clasp falls loose, a whispered sigh,
like secrets shared with no reply.
My heart beats loud beneath the lace,
a tender ache I can’t erase.

I fold the bra, lay it aside,
a silent symbol of my pride.
But pride feels hollow, cold, and bare,
because there’s no one standing there.

No hungry eyes to watch me glow,
no lips to steal what’s mine to show.
I’m dressed in want, exposed, alone,
a queen without a lover’s throne.

My pulse races with desperate heat,
a fire I cannot defeat.
I crave a touch, a burning glance,
a stolen moment, a reckless dance.

But all I have are empty rooms,
and shadows filling quiet tombs.
I undress not for anyone,
except the ghost of what’s undone.

Bra off, heart wide open still,
aching with a yearning thrill.
A woman naked, raw, and true,
longing for a lover’s view.

I close my eyes and dare to dream,
of hands that catch my silent scream.
But when I wake, I’m still alone,
bra off, heart on an empty throne.
  

Warm hands I dream of in the night,
but all I touch are sheets so white,
cold and empty, stretched and bare,
a bed that holds my silent prayer.

I reach across the vacant space,
imagining your soft embrace.
Fingertips that should be mine,
yearning for your skin on mine.

My body burns with hunger deep,
but no one stirs, no lips to meet.
The ache inside, it twists and breaks,
in shadows only silence wakes.

I trace the shape you should have filled,
the hollow place where love once thrilled.
My breath is heavy, slow, and torn,
a heart undone, a soul forlorn.

The sheets grow colder as I ache,
each touch a ghost, a cruel fake.
I want your warmth to pull me close,
but only chill and emptiness doze.

My skin remembers what’s not here,
the heat of you, so far, so near.
I’m trapped beneath this lonely tide,
where passion and despair collide.

I twist and turn, I call your name,
but silence answers just the same.
A bed for two, but one remains,
a queen alone with empty chains.

Warm hands I crave, cold sheets I own,
a kingdom built on skin and stone.
I burn, I bleed, I’m torn apart,
with only shadows in my heart.
  

I moaned into emptiness,
a guttural cry, fierce and wild,
like a fire caged within my ribs,
the scream of a lost, desperate child.

My hands roamed over skin and bone,
seeking heat that wasn’t there,
every touch a hollow echo,
a prayer whispered into cold, stale air.

My breath hitched, my body writhed,
a tempest no one calmed or tamed.
I trembled beneath my own hands,
yearning for a lover’s flame.

The sheets were slick with silent tears,
the only witness to my ache.
No lips to meet mine in the dark,
no hands to ease the quake.

I cried out for your whispered touch,
the brush of skin against my own,
but only silence held me close,
a lonely queen upon her throne.

I moaned for passion’s sweet release,
for tangled limbs and stolen nights.
Instead, I faced this aching void,
wrapped in cold and endless fights.

My body burned, my heart broke wide,
every sigh a broken spell.
I screamed for you, my phantom love,
into a hollow, empty shell.

The emptiness took all I gave,
fed on my lust, my silent screams,
left me a ruin, bruised and bare,
the prisoner of shattered dreams.

I moaned until my voice was raw,
each sound a wound, a scar, a plea.
But emptiness, my cruel lover,
held me tight, no rescue, not free.

So here I lie, consumed by ache,
a woman lost in her own fire.
I moaned into the endless dark,
and died a little in desire.
  

I slip on heels that click and gleam,
a perfect fit for no one’s dream.
They lift me high, but hold me still,
a queen with no court, no will.

My legs stretch long, my body sways,
but no one’s watching, no one stays.
I dance alone inside these walls,
the music faint, a distant call.

I’m dressed for nights that never come,
for whispered touch and soft hum.
The straps hug tight, the stilettos gleam,
but I’m alone inside my dream.

The mirror smiles, but never speaks,
while my heart cracks and skin itches deep.
I want to fall, to be caught,
but there’s no one to hold, no lover sought.

I move with grace, a silent show,
heels clicking loud on floors below.
I’m sexy, fierce, a blazing star,
but burning out from where you are.

I’m dressed to thrill, yet all alone,
in empty rooms I make my throne.
A woman fierce, yet aching so,
in heels with nowhere left to go.
  

The mirror watches me undress,
with hungry eyes and soft caress.
It knows the secrets skin won’t tell,
the stories I would never yell.

I trace my curves, my bare desire,
each line ignited like a fire.
But still, no lips press close to mine,
no hands to claim this body’s shrine.

I stand before my glassy friend,
a silent witness to pretend,
that someone’s watching, wanting me,
reflecting back my fantasy.

I bite my lip, I arch my spine,
a dance that’s only mine, all mine.
I wear my lust like second skin,
but no one’s there to draw me in.

The cold glass holds my longing tight,
a thousand years in one night’s light.
My breath fogs up the hollow space,
a ghostly touch on my own face.

I yearn to be consumed, undone,
to lose myself inside someone.
But here I am, the only one
who sees this show beneath the sun.

The mirror watches, never moves,
and keeps my secrets, silent grooves.
A lover trapped in glassy stare,
sexy, lonely, unaware.
  

I light the candles soft and slow,
their flickering dance sets the glow.
A sacred shrine for skin and flame,
but all I touch is just my name.

The room is warm, but cold inside,
where shadows and my wishes hide.
I wear a dress that whispers lace,
to no one’s eyes, no lover’s face.

The scent of jasmine fills the air,
I breathe it in, but you’re not there.
My fingers trail the candle’s light,
alone I burn into the night.

I sway like someone’s watching me,
but silence is my company.
The music plays, a sultry tune,
but I dance only with the moon.

I trace the curves I want to share,
longing for the hands that aren’t there.
My lips part slow, a secret sigh,
a song for ghosts that pass me by.

The heat inside begins to swell,
a quiet storm I cannot quell.
I’m dressed and poised, a queen in flight,
but this throne holds only night.

If you were here, I’d set you free,
ignite your skin, your need, like me.
But for now, I’m candlelight’s flame,
burning alone with just my name.
  

My hands are the only ones that know
the curve of my skin, the places I go,
where velvet meets flesh, where secrets lie,
the silent pleas of a muted sigh.

I trace the path that you never will,
the hollow touch that won’t fulfill.
Fingertips like soft-spun fire,
aching, trembling with desire.

I cup my breast, I stroke my thighs,
I map the shape beneath closed eyes.
But in this touch, I’m all alone,
no whispered moan, no answering tone.

My breath catches, ragged and sweet,
in this silent, empty heat.
I crave a hand to pull me near,
to whisper love inside my ear.

But all I have are these trembling palms,
that offer only hollow calms.
I am my lover, my own sin,
but still I’m aching deep within.

My nails press soft into my skin,
trying to feel what’s buried within,
a hunger no one else can meet,
a craving cruel, incomplete.

I want a touch, soft, demanding,
a fire I cannot be commanding.
Instead, I’m left to taste my hands,
and dream of distant promised lands.

Every stroke a lonely prayer,
every sigh thick with despair.
The only body I can claim,
is mine alone, no one to name.

I am touched, by my own hands,
yearning for sweet commands.
A lover’s ghost I cannot hold,
a story left forever untold.
  

Tipsy lips and blurred desire,
drunk on dreams that never tire.
I trace your name in candlelight,
then kiss the dark to feel it right.

A phantom taste, a ghostly grin,
I sip you softly from within.
Your hands are fiction, lips pretend,
but still, I ache and still, I bend.

I imagine your weight on me,
a heavy warmth I’ll never see.
Your breath across my fragile chest,
a pressure built on sweet unrest.

My thighs part slow with silent grace,
but you’re not here to fill the space.
Still, I whisper, still I plead,
for hands that tremble, lips that need.

Each breath a shaky, burning sigh,
a drunken prayer sent to the sky.
The sheets remember what I don’t,
a touch I crave, a truth you won’t.

I drown in thoughts I can’t embrace,
chasing shadows I cannot face.
I close my eyes, you press me down,
a king who never claimed the crown.

My body writhes in heated ache,
a sin I’m always doomed to fake.
My fingers trace what isn’t there,
you’re in the breath, but not the air.

I moan your name like it’s a hymn,
a gospel soaked in lust and sin.
But prayers don't pull you to my side,
they only echo what I hide.

I reach for you with drunken hands,
but grasp at ghosts and shifting sands.
No warmth, no gaze, no tender call,
just fantasies that let me fall.

I sip the dream, I beg the lie,
I touch myself and wonder why
this fire burns but won’t ignite,
a flame that flickers out each night.

Drunk on longing, drowned in need,
I plant a kiss that will not bleed.
And when I wake, still soaked in crave,
I lie alone, a midnight slave.