Brown bottles filled with hops
It seems to be the only physical evidence left
Eleven sit on my bedside table
Ten you finished, one I couldn't, and one unopened
The smell of you is gone from my clothes
Gone from the blanket I hope kept you warm
I still feel your hand on my thigh
Your deep laugh vibrating against my chest
Your hair between my fingers
For now the only thing I can hold between my hands
Is a beer bottle gone stale
But every time I look down at my cold hands
I remember how warm they felt holding you

City lights,
Views,
Sunday Blues.

Coffee,
Sunsets,
Can we reset?

Long drives,
Kisses,
Left me in pieces.

Even if the closest I can get to you right now
Is just the subtle scent of you on my sheets
I’ll fall asleep with this piece of you wrapped around me
It calms me faster than counting sheep