I miss the way a Man can hold my hand.
As He caters to my hot sensual demand.

How He can caress the arch of my back with a tender touch.
Letting his fingers brush across my breast, 
satisfying me with a whispered hush.

I miss the way I can climb on top of Him and then......
Be swept away by the rhythm as our bodies blend.

I miss the way a Man ultimately satisfies.
From my lips, to my hips, and between my thighs.

I miss the way He and I can tickle and play.
I miss the way we can usually end our day.

The way He can spoil me, allowing me to have my way.
Umm I miss the way a Man can satisfy me in every way.

Yet now this is all a  memory for me.
I find myself daydreaming it's him I see.

It's a Mans eyes I'm thinking, His hands I'm thinking.
His passion I'm invisioning.
And yes let me mention

The essence of His presence,
Is now just a glimpse.

A wanted illusion.
There's no confusion.

That in His absence it feels pretty grey.
All because "I Miss The Way"...........................