NaPoWriMo: Day 6

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i wore

the shirt you left

or did i take it?

borrowed, only borrowed

a relic

a symbol

a souvenir

you know i hate this part

the waking from you

the stumbling

the retreating darkness

the crust of mascara around morning eyes

what sweet relief to slip back into your bed

under your arm

to feel the crushing weight of your strength

to have cold toes

warmed by the furnace of your body

you stir only to squeeze tighter

to run a calloused hand across my stomach

what sweet relief

to realize it is not yet Monday

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