Author: Amy Fortuna (peacefulpassion@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG
Category: Poem, POV
Disclaimer: I don't own the Jedi, and I don't make a dime.
Archive: master_apprentice, SWAL; anywhere else, just ask, I won't say no.
Series: No.
Spoilers: No.
Summary: Obi-Wan and a bit of contemplation.
Feedback: Something I adore. If it's good. Otherwise, go read something else.
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My head is aching
And I am so very tired
I sit here alone on the floor
And think of you.
And think of you-
How I'd love to run my hands
Down the warm planes of your body.
Stroke, caress, and kiss once or twice.
I think-the image growing sharp-
How I'd die to see your loosened hair
Spread out on our bedsheets,
Tumbled in wild disarray.
I'd just watch for a moment,
Drink in the sight and scent of you,
Hear you plead in that oh-so-calm voice
(Now grown harsh, breaking with need)
And I'd take the open road to your heart
Conquer it with a look, a word, a touch.
My head is aching yet
But as I sit on the floor
And think of you-
And think of you-
I am no longer quite so tired.