i’m not a morning person.
i purse my lips, my brain flipping
sleepily through pages of trivial to do lists
while cursing the night for leaving so soon
morning sits quietly, lonely
not quite meeting my gaze even though
we’re in the same room.
but i’ll love her soon enough.
around lunch time my heart will pick up
the moodiness and push it aside
then i’ll tell her she doesn’t have to hide
anymore, she can come along for the ride
and we’ll sit side by side, i’ll feel wistful
as the last hours of the sunset slide
under the blankets and covers
i sit quietly, lonely
knowing i should love her more
since she raises the sun high in the sky
pouring more time, more days into my cup
but there are just some days
i can’t bother to wake up