I wake up
alone, each
morning, as an orange
light peeks over the tops
of the trees on the horizon,
pushing away the night
stars – wishing you
were here. I long for
mornings I will roll
over and find the need
to rise up and look
over your sleeping
back to see this window. I’ll
scoot a little closer, nestle
my nose on your neck: just
light enough to wake
you. When you
come to life, roll
over and kiss
my forehead, it will
be more beautiful
than any sunrise.