there are mornings where I shoot up from bed
certain that I felt your lips on my collarbone

on these mornings
my routine starts off the same

scan the room
rush to my full length mirror
trace my fingertips over the ridge

searching for any sign
some warmth
a lip outline

anything tangible
anything to make
you real again

with goose bumps still crawling down my arms
I jump back under covers
hoping to jump back

to you
and your lips