My Pillow

I admit I find it hard to sleep at night.
My legs squirm around the bed feeling around for yours.
All that remains is the faint smell of your skin-
the smell of your cologne.
I eventually drift into my dreams.

In the morn, I awake.
It's the same lame game,
"where's the smell on that pillow?".
I am lost- I am found.
My addiction is fed again.

I lust for those arms that pinned me down.
I thirst for your passion untamed devouring me again and again.