Today, I awoke to

The warmth of the sheets from your side of bed,

And I reached over to you.

I found the bed empty,

Yet still blessed with your familiar heat.

Your pillow smelt of ceadarwood and musk.

I inhaled—

Taking in the part of you I could never replicate—

And found comfort in your essence.

Though you were not there,

I found you in my morning routine.

The rim of your designated coffee mug had the

Imprint of your lips

Smeared along the glass, a parting kiss from you.

I drank from your leftover brew,

And enveloped myself in the lukewarm swishing

Of your backwash, creamer, and vanilla shot.

On Sundays,

Sunlight filters through the windows in the

Prettiest ways.

An ombre of oranges, golds, and daisy yellows

Greet the kitchen we share in their

Warm, warm rays,

And—again, like I so often am—

I am reminded of you.

9-5 lover,

Come home to me soon.