Skin hunger

As I struggle to find a place that is comfortable to lie in, my body aches for touch.

To feel the curve of someone behind me, safe in their embrace. Their breath on my neck, the length of their body curled around mine. The weight of their presence a comfort, easy, and secure. Their warmth and energy mingling with mine.

Instead I lay within a nest of pillows, strategically placed to offer some support and comfort, and the illusion of weight. No warmth, no energy exchange, a lone tree on a deserted island, surrounded by sea.