Among spring blooms,
I think of you and the countless miles
between us.

The distance emboldens me,
for we will never meet
and so it is safe to lose myself
in reverie.

First, I imagine you aroused
and stroking, your cock hardening:
lust resurrected.

Vividly, I hear your gasps
and groans, followed by a murmur:
Look what you do to me.

This is what I think of
while walking amid
the season's green.
I am soon wet and aching
for your warmth,
for a seed sown.