Ceiling Fan

The gust of cool air hits my face

While I’m lying in my bed

Reaching for a pair of fuzzy socks

And Josh’s warm body to hold against mine

He prefers to sleep with a fan

Whereas I am always cold at night

But I let him keep it on

Without thinking twice

I hope it is always cold when I sleep

And even when he’s gone

I still turn the fan on

Anything that reminds me of him will do

I press myself against his chest

While becoming jealous of his pillow

And stare at the ceiling fan above me

Blowing a nice breeze against my cheeks.

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J.W.M.