The Whisper That Lingers

This morning, I’m greeted by your soft touch and warm lips,
my favorite way to say good morning and goodbye.

You kiss me,
hold me in a quiet embrace,
and I leave with my heart resting in your hands.

My head lifts from the curve of your back,
the uneven pillows beneath us.
Eyes still shut,
I free my legs from the red, heavy cloth clinging to them.

I sit at the edge of the bed,
lashes pressed tight,
while the fan hums in the corner,
its breath carrying the room’s stale air across my face.

The thin black curtain sways,
soft as an exhale,
shielding the white vertical blinds from morning light.

And in this quiet, in-between moment,
between rest and routine,
closeness and distance,
your warmth still lingers on my skin
like a whisper not ready to leave.