The night is cool but this blanket is heavy
The only light is a soft street lamp's
silent flicker through closed curtains
The mint of toothpaste lingers on
the back of my tongue but other
than that, my body is numb
I am still; I am calm
It is one forty seven
and I crave you
so deeply that I swear I can smell
your skin in the air that hangs around me
I want to trace your collar bones
with my wrist
I want to feel your hips poking
into my side
I want the subtle warmth of
your nose on the back of my neck
I want to listen to you breathe
slowly and steadily into my ear
I crave you like hot chocolate
after the first snow fall of the year
each time the moon visits
and doesn't bring sleep with it

I need a lullaby sang
in your raspy voice
I need your thighs
stretched over my ribs;
Your body unfolding
in the morning's sun
I miss the way your yawn
carries on and on
like the quiet ending
to a slow song