Counting down the hours,
minutes,
seconds
until we are reunited is an exquisite type of torture.
Finally, liberation!
Racing home to claim my prize, I lose track of my surroundings,
begin to lose my bearings as I prepare to slip into the comfort you give.
Frantically, I twist and turn you,
flip and flop you,
gasping for another taste.
Alas, you have left me wanting and alone; the last cookie is gone!
Written 10.17.19
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