sleeping hours are through
it's on days like this -
huggingly brisk, orangey sundays -
when i miss you the most.
i miss pushing my face into your shoulder
under a sweaty blanket on your couch
and watching the digital numbers
go from 3:00, 4:30, 6:00,
and our books, half-read, closed
about our toes,
the TV humming with the show
that followed the one we actually
meant to watch.
the sunset slowly peaking
all of the noises in the world
blended and subdued
and as thin as spider hair
the sunset kissing each of us on the cheeks
your breath warm and dewy
on my face
my falling-into-sleep sudden jerks
the sunset turning the brown room
pink
two heads sharing a throw pillow.
no, i still cannot believe that these moments
are no longer mine.
these late-afternoon naps,
these delicate creatures,
this existing as comfort
and plateaus after searching -
these heavens, these rests -
all done.
i miss it,
that ultimate security.
whatever we did not have,
we had that.
huggingly brisk, orangey sundays -
when i miss you the most.
i miss pushing my face into your shoulder
under a sweaty blanket on your couch
and watching the digital numbers
go from 3:00, 4:30, 6:00,
and our books, half-read, closed
about our toes,
the TV humming with the show
that followed the one we actually
meant to watch.
the sunset slowly peaking
all of the noises in the world
blended and subdued
and as thin as spider hair
the sunset kissing each of us on the cheeks
your breath warm and dewy
on my face
my falling-into-sleep sudden jerks
the sunset turning the brown room
pink
two heads sharing a throw pillow.
no, i still cannot believe that these moments
are no longer mine.
these late-afternoon naps,
these delicate creatures,
this existing as comfort
and plateaus after searching -
these heavens, these rests -
all done.
i miss it,
that ultimate security.
whatever we did not have,
we had that.