insulated (revised)

[machinery]

My walls are insulated with her skin. This atmosphere of her, two years in the making - to and through to the corners of my room and beyond. Memories of us, of her, scatter across my ceiling and run down my walls.

She was so intriguing...
How many times I became intoxicated with the thought of her?

The way I used to embrace her upon arrival-
running my hands down her back
pulling her in
The way she followed me around - her eyes had that coy look...

Everything about her
made my eyes dance
up and down, back and forth, internal and external

Always so innocent was she, teasing unintentionally

The way she licked her lips after a long sentence
how they shimmered
how they curled inward, bitten and tugged
her lips were so fresh
huddled around a barely visible smile
Her smell, how her neck used to drag me my lips in- wanting more

Her voice is so heavy in my memory
but it was so light
she whispered when it wasn't needed
how she approached my ear and said "hey you"
how her hair would get in the way of her eyes,
hiding her from me

The poetry of her features were...
?were amazing.
The tight sweaters and how her jeans hugged her form
how I lost myself in her eyes everytime
how her skin felt, tasted and pleasured
how she was the only thing I needed

the way she used to lay lazy on my sheets,
wrapped warm in good intentions and thin warmth
the way she continually inched up against me,
holding me close

how she would laugh and squirm
how she would breathe on my body
and how I would melt
how it was completely silent when we undressed
how her body glowed - it seemed to shine

when the clock showed late, how she would get comfortable
and fall asleep
how we would wake up in the morning - after only few hours
and be gentle...

how I would guide her backside as she left

how it was so real....

every
single
time

Now I sit, looking at an old picture I took of her, where she was laying on my bed
smiling...
here I am, wanting it to be as it was
here I am waiting, waiting for her to return
submerging in another afternoon, another day

now everything dives even deeper
and I'm lost - with regret with love with doubt.

[parch]

before it was like a snapshot and now you've created a story for the reader...a fully covered canvas. this is nice and very romantic, but it seems much more of a completely different poem than a revised poem. somehow the other grabbed at me more although it may not have been complete. this is complete.....i just realized how much i like the ending on this..."how it was so real............every
................single
................time"
that part was cool. nicely done.
___---parch