Warm Beer

I’ll be there, he says.

Like a sunrise,

A smile rises on my face.

I anticipate his long fingers

Dancing along the ridges

Of my spine.

 

I can almost hear his soft

Whispers, inducing my heart

To pulse to its rhythm.

I’m eager to take in his scent

Of autumn leaves and

Coconut oil.

 

His favorite brew cascades

Into the glass, like

The gushing river I feel

Inside, foreseeing his

Touch.

 

I wait.

The seconds barrel by,

Yet I linger, the weight

Of my eyes too much

To bear.

 

I awake to an empty bed,

Undisturbed on one side,

And a warm beer,

Untouched, still hopeful

For his arrival.

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