The Routine Of Not Having You

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7am
i crave to be
the cup of coffee
gently kissing
your drowsy lips to consciousness
on bitter mornings
when the sun has yet to rise
and i wonder if i missed you.

4pm
i long to be
the outside breeze
faintly tickling
the hairs on your skin,
and the dog-eared novel
relishing the thoughts
you give my words,
on rainy afternoons
when the sun and moon reunite
and i wonder if i love you.

1am
i yearn to be
the unwashed robe
tightly embracing
your waist,
the sunken pillows
indulging in
each slow breath,
and the layers of blankets
hopelessly tangled
between your arms and legs,
on sleepless nights
when the moon masks behind the clouds
and i wonder if i’ll ever tell you.