Intimacy

I want you.
In the morning when I wake up.
I stretch languorously.
Body taut, muscles straining.
Then, sudden complete limpness.
Soft pillows enveloping.  

My head is on your pillow.  
Every morning it is.  
My pillow is there.  
On the other side of the bed.  
Abandoned sometime in the early light
 after you had left.  
I never remember doing that.  
Moving to your side of the bed.  
I think my body is just drawn to
 the warmth left in the sheets.  
Your scent on the pillow and wrapped around me.  

My being wakens to the almost remembered intimacy of, when? ...
I don't know.  Hours ago?  
You were here beside me all night,        
but I don't know when it was
that our bodies came together.  
Whether it was in the early predawn or
the dark starry stillness of the not quite morning    hours.  

I'll never know.  
But I don't need to.  
Not really.  
It is there inside me.  
I recall it like a dream.  
A fog of feeling.  
Blood pulsing through my veins.  
Shimmering touches across my body.  
Sudden hot.