The Cold Side

I pile things
on the cold side
of my bed,
and rarely clean it off
because it’s lonely
when it’s empty.

If you were here,
you’d warm that side.
As luck would have it,
it’s the one you like to sleep on.

The nightstand is ready
for your phone and watch,
your connection to another
life and time.

It was long ago cleaned out
by the man who left my heart,
and that side of my bed, cold.

The bed is big,
and I love that you’d
rather it not be,
so I promise as you drift off
and while you sleep,
I’ll stay near you,
always warmly touching,
so you’ll never lose me
in your dreams.

I should not tell you,
but I will.
Two nights ago,
when the night was cold
and I was lonely for you,
I untucked the sheets,  
just the way you like,
so they won’t trap your feet.
I would never
want you trapped. 

I know you’ve never
breathed here in this room,
but you’ve breathed
warm life
back into my heart.

And when you get here,
I will gladly clear off
that cold side of my bed
so I can share it,
and warm love,
with you. 

~ cj 2012.03.05 at lonely o’clock.

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