It’s Saturday morning,
Made coffee and brought it back to bed.
I’m tired of coffee. It feels dull on my tongue.
I sleep each night on one half, I wake to the other half,
neatly tucked sheets without a crease.
Where are you my best friend?
Where are you my lover?
The warmth of your body next to mine.
In those quiet moments of the night when we have talks
no agenda, just wandering into realms of feelings and dreams
with one another.
And finding more of each other.
like butter and sugar, melting together to make a rich sauce,
our bodies find each other melding, becoming one. It is delicious.
Coffee with you will be better. It will taste strong, aromatic as we lie in bed, morning sun brightening the edges of your face.
Come my friend, my lover. You have been gone too long. I am ready. My body is soft and pliable, ready to receive you into my arms. My mouth wants to sing my heart to you.
For now, while I wait for you in this bed, alone,
the other is half filled with books and journals.
Journals of love; books of thoughts all to share with you.
Victoria Yeary 