Sharon Stockdale

Lying beside you in the gloaming,
So natural to roll over and bury my face
under the shadow of your darkening profile,
lifting my heart on your dizzying scent.
I have to fight the urge,
lest I forget that I can’t do that anymore.
My head no longer welcome on your chest,
my fingers hungry for the warmth of your back
must be restrained.
My lips, now estranged, quiver
as the memory of your velvet kiss awakens them.
After you left the room,
I buried my face in your pillow
and drank you in.
Every smile invites my fingertips
to caress your stubbled cheek,
’till I remember.
Every harsh word wounds more deeply
knowing there will be no gentle whisperings
to complete the day.