Kiss of Distant Times

The taste of his lips 

On mine wakes me up from the dream

Greatest of its kind 

The dream I believed him to only be mine

Yet i come to tears not acceptance 

As the coffee tainted air fills my lungs 

The mornings like those 

Are long gone

What began with a kiss 

Landed by a bloom of fear

As the man before me

Disappeared 

As all that was left 

Was the coffee studded air 

And the warmth on my lips 

With the wish he was still there

This poem is about: 
Me

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