Difficult dreams are hard to wake up from. This is. I dreamed I slept curled around you like a spoon. Sometimes waking I found it true, and sometimes not. And now you’re always gone. The cat purrs in my knees. I want your long spine against my chest and belly, not two pillows. I miss your brown hair pressed into my face; your shoulder at my chin, so strong.
It’s hard to wake and find myself alone. It’s hard to turn and meet the sterile light. My hands grip crumpled linen, wet with screams. I fear the long day, hours upon the phone with strangers, not talking about the nights now gone. I sleep in, clutching at my dreams.