The Day After.

You are the one I wake up missing from satin sheets laid for your erotica.

You come to mind with a shaver you gave for starting the days after.

You are the one who kept the mornings smell of coffee roast and buttered toast.

You are the last smell I’ll take just before the front door close.

 

You I no longer hear complaining my choices on the road.

You I no longer compete for the silly right to gloat.

You I could no longer call when the world crawls to a standstill.

You could no longer distract and keep those moments filled.

 

You are who comes to mind with no calls during lunch to ask what I’m having.

You are missing by no more texts during meetings to ask how it’s going.

You are no longer the concern asking when I’m leaving.

You are the void greeting a home where there is no one waiting.

 

You are the last thing in my mind as I lay me down to sleep.

Should I not wake up anymore, to be with you again is the only thought I keep.

 

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