i crawl in the last corner of sunshine I find on the bed
moving over inch by inch
to feel its warmth . . . to get a little more . . . before it disappears
is this how it is for you?
desperate for love, hunkering for more—or even just a little bit—before they disappear
you keep moving over
moving the lines of your principles, the lines of your dignity, to bask in this fictitious affection
disguised as love
given by another human—satisfying themself
you . . . you feel wanted, needed, by someone
the motivation of the other eclipsed by your longing
to be touched
to be held
to be loved
but in reality
there is only their need
to finish