Less I see your stroke into mine skin,
I have no more intimacy I felt in you,
I have no thoughts of you anymore,
your words vanished completely,
I'm but missing with no feelings,
alone, lonely like an abandon parchment.

My covering is empty without you
your blackness is saturated with digital feelings
floating in the vast surreal world,
only to be read without spirit, empty.

Hollow, muffled words are kept in you,
I can no longer grasp your sights
in an endless, dreadful waiting,
longing is essential in a dried scribble gesture.

I crave for your inner depth of thump
into my crust
brushing with murkiness of untainted love
like a paper cut thrusting, pushing, stroking
the aggravated sensations bolster more
to boost up the undying ink.