The Morning After You

Prose poetry describing the morning after a romantic interlude.
She's no longer there. Her side of the bed is still made, kept. Slowly, he blinks his eyes into focus as he wakes. He realizes his arm is not around her, just laying flat on her side of the bed. How could that be? Everything seemed so real. He raises up onto his arm. She is gone. The scent of her hair is still present, but she has left. A yearning deep inside his soul onto his pelvis is left unattended. Sitting up, he scratches his eyes and gets out of bed. He makes his way to the bathroom and washes his face at the sink. Deep creases and wrinkles surround his well-worn face. Tears well up in his eyes as he tries to quell the anxiety of her departure. Hands shaking slightly, he begins the morning routine of rousing himself for the day ahead. She's gone. He knows that. He knows he will see her again.

Their relationship is solid, mounting. It's just these damn mornings after she leaves, where he has to realize that there will be days ahead without her physical being. He will talk to her. He will talk to her soon, but her beauty, grace, and charm will physically be absent for the next 4 or 5 days. What he does have are the memories. Those sacred, treasured memories of the times they have shared. The times that they laughed and smiled. The times that they ate and drank. The times they made love. Rich, passionate love that is found in new and budding romances. They still have a lot to learn about each other, but he is confident they can overcome what obstacles lay ahead. He turns back to the bed. Her silhouette is outlined in his mind. He briefly closes his eyes and relives her writhing in unison beneath him as they climax together, falling into each other's arms, satiated. He remembers kissing her goodnight before she hopped into her car to start her travel home. God, it is all so real now. He walks to the window pushing aside the curtains. Her car is gone too.

Naturally, he knows that, but somehow hoping surreally that she is somewhere right there. He remembers holding her by the hips, her arms around his neck kissing before she left. He pushes the curtains back tight. He needs to occupy his mind to escape her void. As he dresses, a smile spreads across his face. Yes, life is good. It is good for him. It is good for her. They are in love. They will share new experiences real soon. The yearning develops in his groin again. This time he just allows it to happen naturally. It is a great feeling. The feeling that he loves this woman. He gathers his things, turns out the lights, and heads out into the pre-dawn morning. His smile widens as he remembers everything from the day before. He gets into his car and pulls away. On his journey home, he just cannot seem to shake that one last feeling though, if only we had today. If only...
Published: 7/24/2013
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