Bedtime robes or warm fresh towels
Stumbling in her beauty constantly missing vowels
Her favorite cups like me, missing lips
I must move, see glimpses of her everywhere
Laughs echo then I cry room after haunted room.
Swore I’d move on without looking back but I can’t
Tear drenched pillowcases fill our old clothesline
Can anyone tell me when the pain stops
Rushing waterfalls wide open off my face
Pretending absence of a goddess doesn’t hurt so bad
Swearing I don’t want to protest then tightly holding her legs
I hope you hate any city far from me
Hope you hate being in a different bed
Because I hate our old one now
Second pillow missing
Reaching out for you in my sleep.