Rewind to 24 hours ago,
Unwind like you did, last night,
Drunk off wine and a feverish delirium.
No sex, just sleep, you say.
So we do.
When you leave, my sheets reek
with your sleepy affection.
That next night, I am left
in an eyes-wide-open dream state,
My face sunken into my pillow,
memorializing a brief week’s fleeting affair.
I dreamt of bare toes on a kitchen floor,
With fresh-cut flowers on the table.
The air smells like apple pie and cologne.
Their hair smells like the feeling of coming home.