Delightful disengagement

Your careless fingers

Danced over my back

With no real Investment

As if you were strolling

The shelves of a library

Dragging your hands across

Every spine

Of every book on the shelf

Making me ache to be picked up

Opened. Understood. Cherished

Like a first edition

But you had no intentions

Left me with all hopes of the glory.

Wanting.

Touched, but not Felt.

This fueled your inner sadistic desires.

This was nothing but a game to you.

It kept you aloof.

Disengaged.