This poem ends in periods before discontent. 
In the dreading expectation
knowing that this is only a temporary thing

your kisses bring smiles throughout my insides
I love them all because each a stained memoir of your deepest feeling
the ones from the gut where it tickles
the ones deriving from your pelvic bones hungry for skin

This is a temporary thing.

Your fingertips dragging sleeplessly creating figures
above my spine reacts
in goosebumps wanting more than a touch.
My headaches melt away in your chest,
so I’ve noticed
which explains the calming sensation against my temples releasing insomnia from its grasp on me
Real or pure fantasy
when the sensations above my limbs want
nothing more than to breathe you in,
run my teasing hands through the meadows of your hair
in a short embrace.

Your breath gaining weight above my lips,
our eyes grow somber
I hold you in feeling nothing but fleeting energies.