Art Of Touch

the touch of your fingers the softness of your hands memories of the past buried gently in my mind... how I miss those days when your lips met mine when my fingers dropp to your hairy chest moving softly as you close your eyes...... how I miss those times when we both made our promises to enjoy the sweetness of companionship with our grown up boys and girls...... but life is cruel you left me with bundle of memories even the art of sands can’t help to wipe all those traces.... not even the brightest night can cure my solitude can ignore the hidden tears sleeping alone at night... how I miss those moments where you always whisper “I love you” with your busy fingers around me with my naughty words 'i love you too'... and as I saw the fact that alone I am alive where only the sounds i hear and the mirror-behind lights…