i watch the hills roll
and the sounds fade,
with your name spiraling
you’ve left me here, like this,
with your eyes tracing my dreams
and words clouding my hands.
i hope, as i sit with your mind on mine,
that you remember the way
my hair smells in the rain,
and how my hands grazed the outline
of the stubble you refuse to shave.
because with every sip of coffee
i remember the taste of your lips
and the way you looked at me
when i smiled