Coffee

a prose poem

Photo by Cassidy Dickens on Unsplash

I make your side of the bed because it’s smells like you
I remember watching a video, a general or a colonel tells a graduating class “make your bed every morning!”
I don’t make our bed every morning
sometimes, it’s not until the afternoon
and, even then, it’s only some days
I remember my childhood best friend’s mother saying she made the bed before she got out of it
She shook her head at my rumpled sheets
I think about this…