dancing on the head of a needle

Snubbed.

Not as when someone thumbs their nose up at you.

But when lying naked in bed side by side with you, heat rising off my skin like humidity, like steam rising up from a hot pavement after the eruption of torrent rainclouds in ninety degree summer weather,
and you, limp as a wet noodle.

You roll over, turn off the light, find a comfortable position close to the edge of the bed.
With less than an inch of space between us, pained by the distance, I'm closer to insanity.

And while I curse the moon, the stars...my weakness for wanting you, for my wantonness, I would even settle less for a f*ck, pretense long ago stripped away, I lay blinking, thinking in the dark as sleep called my name.

Many times.

First as a whisper and then with an urgency akin to an out-of-control fire as I attempt to silence my more passionate plea of which a battle under cloak of darkness and a blanket chilly with desire I would fight until sleep would eventually claim me as its victor.

Your lack of touch gnaw at me as you breathe unconsciousness into your pillow.

Dreams would chase me down into the nether regions.

Awakening to a cold reality, I would lay there as if my emotions could penetrate your back facing me like a wall. Penetrate the void of wordless thoughts I couldn't articulate as our bodies turn like synchronized swimmers.

Me, in my own sleepless world of torment.
My nakedness-lost in a sea of desire, adrift on endless sea of white cotton.

My mind lost in a minefield of utter confusion and dismay now just wanting your touch.

I couldn't have predicted this state with even a crystal ball
after months, days of togetherness, of laughs, of intimate confessions.
I wanted for you to wrap your arms across my torso.
I wanted passion
I wanted to feel it in you; to fill me with it.
I wanted to believe you feel me like I feel you.
I wanted to see it in my heart. It has eyes, you know.
I wanted you to offer it up to me like the last supper.
I wanted more.
I got much less.
I'm cashing out.
The balance of my emotions is left at the door.