I watch him sleep and trace his face with a finger
he could be you, but he’s better.
His hair is a deep chocolate brown his eyes like caramel
his smell is clean like washed cotton on a breeze
and I am seized of a deep ache.

I loved you once.
A pure deep love.
A painful love that never left.

He stirs and his face creases into a smile
I want to follow his dream.
To sit in the curve of his lips and watch the images unfold.
Knowing that within the circle of his dream, I hold his focus.
I want to spiral down and burrow under his skin,
to be owned just by him.

He’s not you.
He loves me.
He’s caused me no pain.

I enter the crook of his arm and silently exhale
Knowing my kisses are printed on his body
My love upon his heart
He’s not you,
He’s better.