I know, I know

I won’t forget the taste of your lips; coffee stuck to the roof of your tongue in just the right way because it’s just barely black with the slightest hint of hazel and tea spoon of sugar. Early morning toll of coffee machines and ceramic cups with the silent pressing of warmth by my side as you always tried to keep from waking me.

You never knew but I’d wake up five minutes before just to make sure you were breathing/sleeping soundly because this was the only time I really had with you before the clocks took me away and replaced what little time we had close to a quarter to one am.

Smile barely tracing the contours of playful features and toes curling towards linen sheets to tug just so because it was the only way you thought to wake me. You’d smile and I’d give you the ever silent conversation of good morning before the taste of coffee met my lips and traced my tongue…and despite the hazel I could taste just the faintest remains of you.

Today I didn’t hear the tolling of machines or the sinking of sheets because it’s much too early for your morning routine, I won’t get that last taste of hazel or the press of your flesh against the back of my neck but instead it’s the brush of fingers against my skin. I don’t think you’ve noticed but the previous days cologne is still stuck to my skin, it’s nothing but a tired smile and an I love you before I kiss at your neck and you’ve already fallen back to sleep.

I don’t think I can ever come back to the taste of hazel or the pressure of crisp linen sheets on Sunday mornings because the thought of losing you scares me.

I can still taste the lingering of coffee on my lips.



MutexLioness


>: I'm not all that happy with it because it doesn't have the feeling I was going for, might retry it again. Hope this time it'll work.