Sitting criss-cross on the floor
Of my small, urban apartment.
Furniture is unaffordable,
But I like the lack of clutter.

I find the sole patch of sunshine,
Beaming through my east facing window
And paint the shade “gypsy” onto my lips.
I gently press my mouth and blend in the
shade of melted, orangey red.

Playing low is, my favorites by John Coltrane.
Getting lost in the notes he blows out on his saxophone.
I get lost in the mellow jazz and the warm sunshine caressing my skin.

And as I close my eyes,
Still heavy from lack of sleep the night before. I see you in my minds eye
I see you and feel you in my room
I hum softly to you and smile
I sway and you smile back at me.
Then I open my eyes again...

And you’re gone...