Tell Me Something

Tell me something to make me feel
more than just a breathing being.
Let me know I'm worth the effort.
Help make the silence palatable.

Your touch, long ago, radiated through my skin
and spread delicious sensations southward.
Now, we're rarely close; there doesn't seem
to be the time nor the inclination to do so.

We used to spend hours with lips entwined
as we drank from a bottomless well.
Our kisses are more perfunctory, obligatory--
the fireworks have died in midair.

As I stare at what could have been,
I realize we omit the little things.
Those three little words disappeared
along with thank you and please.

We took for granted that things stagnate
and reduced our own efforts accordingly.
I miss what we used to be--the excitement,
the playfulness, the togetherness. I miss you.