In the Morning

You told me you were lonely, and
I knew the feeling.
So when you pulled back the blanket,
motioning for me to get into the bed,
I didn’t hesitate.
You wrapped your arms around my waist and pulled me closer to you.
As I swam in your scent, I realized how
familiar it all felt.
We were both burning up, but I was scared if I stopped touching you for even a second, I would wake up, and realize it was all a dream, so I pulled your palm tightly into mine and held your hand while you slept.
I stayed up for hours listening to the angelic rhythm coming from your chest,
wondering how a simple heartbeat
could be more inspiring than any poetry I’ve ever read,
and I wish to be the only girl who ever knows what your sleepy yawn sounds like at 4 a.m., but you have betrayed me more times than I can count, and I know you won’t be there in the morning.
So as I felt your breath against my neck, I brought my mouth close to your ear.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I whispered. “You won’t be staying long.”