It was an empty embrace, meant more to comfort than to love. You saw what you wanted, and I saw what I wanted, but we couldn't see what it wasn't or was.
It wasn't lust that held you against me.
It was desire that made you her.
Your kisses froze on my cheek like tears on rough winter mornings. I dared not cry, silently sinking lower into the depths of my shame. I have no place to hide.