I used to linger in bed with you,
past my alarm,
pretending to be asleep as the
sunrise tip-toed in.
I would be late to work again
and you would hold me as if
I might slip from your arms
and float off into the sun.

Now you lay with your back to me most nights.
You kiss my lips politely, whisper
I love you with yours; but
when the morning comes
you don’t hold me
and I don’t pretend to sleep anymore.

Today,
touch starved and wide awake,
I pulled you in;
You rolled back over,
and I got up before my alarm.