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Morning Touch
Your touch in the mornings is what I miss the most
The warmth of your body lying in my arms
The smell of your hair before I open my eyes
Waking to my side becoming one sixteenth of the bed
Because you had seized control of the rest throughout the night
Your snooze and snooze, and snooze and snooze and snooze
I’d give anything to be awakened by one more time
Your voice was softest in the morning
Before you were fully awake
Still half dreaming
You were everything I could possibly dream for
The one thing I need
I still reach for you in the moment I wake
Expecting there to be something besides the emptiness you left
When you would wake first and whisper sweet nothings into my ear
Thinking I was still asleep, I heard every word
I still, hear every word
Your touch in the morning is what I miss the most
