Shivers tiptoe along my arm
resting on white sheets,
my head huddled under a mass of brunet
with a white pillow crowning.

One foot is socked,
the other bare - its sock
lost in the downy blankets' shadows
- curling toes.

Stomach to mattress,
spine to air -
a rise and fall
and a hiccup or two.

Dawn comes along,
pitter to the patter.
Who am I,
but a person missing you.

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