You’re always on the wrong side,
usually my side,
so I squeeze in
Your arms wrap around my waist,
Fitting your length up against mine,
right into that niche,
which would wake me at sunrise,
along with kisses to the back of my neck.
As you take your time,
no rush for us,
this is our time.
To put it simply,
I miss that.
I miss you.
The heat of your body,
no sheets needed.
I complain that you need to give me more space
On the edge I was
So you roll over to later have me follow suite.
Now it’s me on top of you, clinging,
So that somehow someway we end up like we started,
You back in your niche
But now my queen feels like a king without you.
I’m swallowed up in it.
Blankets and pillows can’t give off your heat.
Restlessness dogs my nights,
No arms to hold me tight, no snore to drum me to sleep,
no surprise greets me at sunrise.
Your place is now just an empty space.
Fighting the cold I pull up the sheets