To See?

I lay alone on my side,
Thinking of where your body resides,
How that, if you were here,
You'd curl up behind me,
And murmur in my ear,
Rough hands coveting my curves,
Lingering in dips,
Lavishing my hips,
Where are you when my head is fragile,
And my knees so weak?
How do I cope with such absence
Week
After
Week?

A log fire burns far below,
But a chill raises bumps on my arms,
My chest aching,
in silent remembrance
of ancient charms,
I miss that cheeky hand on my bum,
How I would laugh,
How you make things fun,
Is all that is left some fantasy,
Or is there more to this than I can see?