I wake up and find
comfort in closed beige blinds,
and laying by my side,
tousled hair, I don't have
a pen to describe it.
I laugh after the 5th time.
We love too much.
We kiss too much.
We crave soft skin, pillows,
me you in contorted positions
too much.
And as I sleep on my side
bearing broad shoulders
sharp pangs permeate.
I can't turn from your face.
I actually like you,
I'm not lying nor blinded
by a post-coitus haze.
*Are you?