I’m always here so maybe you’re too comfortable in leaving affection out
No time? Too tired? Towards any and everything else you’re wired, efforts all expired, department of intimacy fired
Time marches ahead and we’re waiting for a rest area but there are none ahead
Parts failing the friction of trials and afflictions even in my concerns no true prescription shines through
A vacation without you, vice versa, what will we do, tighten our hugs or pout, give a spare ticket to doubt
And when we do come together it feels like a tease, a single ice cube in a summer drink
Melting away from significance as we blink.
Emotion Dough 