i want to wake up from you like a skewed nightmare
and feel the familiar relief of reality
settling into place like a crisp white bed sheet onto a mattress,
and i want to shudder at the memory
and make coffee and
squint and try to remember you,
but blissfully fail,
and only remember you when i see grey snow
or feel a Northern wind find a patch of skin on the small of my back,
and i want to feel the warm barrier of reality protect me from
the delusion of you