Stone Circle revenio

"suppose being alone is what i am skilled at?" not a jest, not truly; it would fall flat as a joke. 

suppose his heart could take loneliness no longer, but it was the binding tie between he and sanity.

and his pulse; it galloped; he felt himself careen headlong into the hunger for touch that expected nothing.

beneath her kiss, she would feel him tense, his nostrils flare slightly. this denial, unbending. 

there is no home for me, the roman wished to say, but the words did not come for he would not wound another.

instead, gratitude at last splintered across his countenance, and he looked away as guilt curdled in his gut.