I watch him sleep.
His breathing pattern, the sound of a lullaby.
I lift my finger and slowly trace his lips.
The hair follicles on his chin, slightly twisting them around my finger.
I trace the curves of his broad chest.
I bring my hand to his hair, his waves identifying to the waves of the ocean.
I smile. Happiness.
I wake up and turn my head.
He’s not there.
I look up and watch the popcorn textures dance around my ceiling.
What is this feeling?
Come back my sweet love.
I am in the mist.
I am waiting for my light.