kipirate

The thirst consumes me, unquenchable, my lips dry and my tongue sticks to the back of my tooth. Water won't slake my thirst nor whiskey or wine. Only the air sweetened by her breath can quench it; a slight glance my way, a casual brush of her fingertip across my hand and I shudder and melt into the floor. Like a dream where you go to look and can't open your eyes, her face is always just out of sight, just out of reach. Who is she? Why does she torment me so? Whatever I have done in the past to deserve this; I am sorry. I need to see who she is, but it's like trying to spot a changeling, trying to grab the mirage; she's always just out of reach. So forgive me if I lean in too close when we hug hello or goodbye, the thirst is too much to bear, I have to know who she is...