the hardest part
of waking up
without you

is not the cold
nor the emptiness
or the absence
of your angelic scent

it’s just that
the simple knowledge
that two thousand miles
is actually enough
to pull my hands from
your skin, and separate
my lips from yours
is difficult to endure

missing you isn’t so bad
it’s not coming back to you
that keeps me hurting
when I hear your voice
and my heart leaps, in vain

I think you visited me
in my dreams, because
when I woke I found
your scent in the air,
the familiarity of it
stinging my nostrils
and eyes.