To stroke her cheek. x video I blow so gently it could be a breeze through the early-budding trees that sway in the darkness outside. I want her to see me; me, as I am. Him without me. I want her to remember me. As sweet as hers. I imagine Him making love to her. Behind her hooded eyes her pupils widen. My ravaged chest; black gore and torn flesh that were once my sweet breasts. Dark, dead, heavy, greasy mire. But there is nothing. What He did to me. To stroke her cheek. To share me. Staring at me as I arch my body over her. Something to distract her from the empty silence of the house that was now just hers.
