You’re Not Here

I crawl into bed and wrap myself in the blankets.

They’re all I have to keep me warm when you’re not here.

I roll onto your side of the bed and bury my face into the sheets.

The unwashed sheets.

They smell like you.

This side of the bed smells like you.

It smells like the you that just made love to me.

Your exhausted sweat turned calm and cool by the dark silence…

And nothing else but our bodies touching.

My heart pounds with so much love it’s profusely thrusting fresh blood into my veins faster than I can even breathe.

I fall asleep with the memory of that feeling.

It’s disturbing how peaceful this kind of adrenaline feels.

I slept on your side of the bed.

Because it smells like you.

And you’re not here.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s