The Whispers of Him

He comes to me in the night,

Sneaks into the covers and pulls me close.

He kisses my neck, whispers my name.

His ghost but a tingle on my spine.

I loved once. It was fire and passion.

Making love and tearing it apart.

Now I listen to love songs on quiet country roads

and I feel him sitting in the passenger seat, loving me.

I feel his smile, miss his lips, his warmth all encompassing.

He is the one and he belongs to another.

So all I have left are whispers of him.

Whispers that lull my empty heart to sleep when the moonlight floods in.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s