Daylight Those mornings where the rosy hue of a summer's day, that binds itself across your window pane, the type that trickles flares of lights across your bed sheets, like the glittering blue satin you find on the surface of a tropical sea. Where are you? I see you, but I don't feel that you are here. The warmth of that presence is missing. That solitude but not loneliness, like those arms wrapped around you in a silent embrace, it's not here, but I see you. The mirage of a hope you cling to, the warmth and the security of nothing possibility ever going wrong. Content sunrise, only if my heart believed you would never set.
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