Tin Kits

I seldom have held on to something as long as her.
Once gone I lose interest in the flavor of their company, but not hers.
Warmth from her yearning as a greeting with a kiss to follow.
A taste of the edge of her mouth would rush want to my needs.
Moving past the past is what it is that I do in this life thus far.
Getting on without those who affected me in such a way to make change.
Now my nights I lay awake without listening to her cry at her joy and pain.
I bathe in want for her company the heat never enough to burn her out.
Her lips hold a spell for my heart that cannot shuffle past the times.
My hands reach for her still in the night of constant movement.
Dreams of her awaken me of the nights I would awaken her to longing.
I cannot help but want to push on yet my body will not forget nor my being.
Her way of capturing my everything and I have no fight for it back.
How many days can a man live without want for the return of his heart.