Every morning

You are faithful to your morning
Prayers and your habit of
Having coffee first
After waking up

So the room smells of coffee
Fumes wafting
Settling to
My nostrils
As I pretend sleeping

You complain somehow
That this room
No longer smells
The pungent
Odors
of lovers

Of our common
Sweat drying because
We have overslept
Because we are so exhausted
each one
unattended.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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