Imprisoned to your photo I gaze only to know that you will always be out of my reach. In my own sick misery I drown in your pleasure, waiting for the air conditioner to dry my sweat. For in what I call my reality, you are the woman forever etched into my flesh.

At night I hear your moans making music like water falling on a tin roof, feeling the wetness of your mouth as your toes begin to curl. You are the stimulus guiding me towards my release, as you arch your back, with head tilted, and expressions of anticipation painted across your face.

Imprisoned to your photo I gaze only to know that you will always be out of my reach. As the time passes my feelings got deeper, until the emotions that I thought I owned really own me. The longer I stare the more I know just how much I really need you.

My imagery is so powerful that you have become my lustful sensation throughout the wee hours of the night. I could never forget our moment in time, while I held the woman that I love for what seemed like an eternity. You will remain forever a part of me until the death angel grinds my bones back to dust.

Imprisoned to your photo I gaze only to know that you will always be out of my reach. As I take a deep breath and swallow, I hear your words as they play over and over in my head. A melody consisting of a two-syllable word that destroyed my heart as you parted your lips and said “Good-bye!”