I miss you

your hands, your eyes
I miss exploring your mouth, your mind
I miss delighting my tongue with your lips
And breathing in the taste of you
I am pregnant with this yearning
this liquid desire like
molten lava in my vains.
I love how you cause me to...mmmh.
You move me in ways I want to put into verse.
See, you inspire.   
Poetry drops from my tongue
at the mere sight of you.
My fingers have recently
discovered a seventh sense,
and it’s called “the essence of your deliciousness”.
With seven being the number of completion
You. Have. Made. Me. Come. Full. Circle.