I miss you in the quiet hours Mon Beau,
when the night stretches long
and my body remembers
what my hands cannot hold.
I miss your touch My King —
the way it spoke without words,
the way my breath forgot its rhythm
every time you pulled me closer.
That last night still lingers on my skin,
a warmth I haven’t washed away,
a memory that returns
whenever I close my eyes.
I miss the hunger,
the fire we didn’t try to tame,
the way desire felt honest
and beautifully reckless.
And more than anything Mon Roi,
I can’t wait to see you again —
to feel that spark,
to fall into you
like no time has passed at all.
Until then S-man,
I carry you in my thoughts…
and in the ache
that only you know how to calm Wise One.
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