Though it now smells like me.
Here I don't have a "side",
Though I am partial to the window.
By the window I get all the best,
the view of the world,
the dim city street,
the unpredictable, yet lovely, weather,
Yet also the view of you,
Quiet, and at your most vulnerable,
Appearing to be almost shy in slumber.
Kiss your shoulder, rolling away,
Now viewing the other half of my world.
Though it now smells like me,
This is not my bed.