Beaming rays of gold,
pry my distressed eyes open,
on a crisp September morning.
The china white sheets nearby,
were still indented with the grooves,
of your once present body.
I traced the lines you deserted,
like constellations,
in the hollow black of the night sky.
Reminisce of your musky cologne,
radiated the air,
and stimulated my senses;
a scent my mind remembered without hesitation.
Dust danced carelessly,
in between the dark and light shadows,
transcending from the outdoor portal across the room.
I lay motionless on my bed,
replaying the purity of your voice in my head,
like my favorite tune.