I sleep in my empty

Bed reaching out to

Touch your pillow,

The air smells of your

Cologne and the scent

Of us but there can be

No us, a cruel joke on

Lovers inhabiting the

Same planet but apart,

As you are at work in

Your city, I sleep in

Mine, some would say

We are separated by

Physical distance but as

I look at the two clocks

By my bedside, mine,

Yours, never the same,

I want to tear apart the

Fabric of Time so that

At least in there, we are

Together and I can

Sleep in your arms.

By Gail Constable

From: Canada

Instagram: witch_of_words1955