An unfinished poem that was written too soon

I watch their hands as i wait for you

Long fingers, short fingers, broad nails and rounded tips 

Blunt

Just like yours 

Their eyes, blue and green and brown 

Brown but not like yours, 

Not like dark honey and rich mahogany 

Not like moonshine, sunshine and sin

And empty beer bottles

Sharp cuts, scratches and sterile teeth

Wet tongues

Strong hands

Calloused and warm

Cold as teak

Left in the dark

Left alone

Skin to skin

Pin pricks, goosebumps, dilated

Cognac and amber 

And broken beer bottles