I crave companionship.
Nights are the worst.
I pull the spare pillow
up against me, lengthwise.
As I get cozy,
the pillow warms.
Every so often,
I forget I’m alone.
Until there are no feet
to tangle with.
No arms to wrap around me.
No hair to smell.
No forehead to kiss—
good morning.
I still feel like that. 12 years later.