(un)titled home

the taste of her
on my lips
the feel of her
against my side
as she mumbles
sleepily
how long
has the bed
been empty
devoid of dream
lost
with no anchor
to keep me in place
against
the turbulent tides

her gentle breathing
in a room
so silent
for far too long
waiting
for that right moment
singular
in perfection embodied in

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