I wake up alone
and in my morning haze imagine
your arm wrapping around me
warm breath
the gentle scratch of stubble
a quiet whisper – "morning love"
I turn to face you
and there is no tear
to brush away
but your hand finds my face
regardless
I keep returning to this image
writing it out
in slightly different words
like I could wish it into existence
as the craving for warmth
and safety in your arms
remains the same
impossible dream
devastatingly not real
and then reality calls
– I'm almost late for work
© coldscars