greying into blue, a poem

It’s 6am and the sky is greying into blue

My phone is softly singing

And I’m below the warm covers.

I have messages from a friend across the world.

He wakes me with voice notes and cats

And the monotony of cleaning his coffee machine

There is a friend who lies in the room beside mine

Yesterday he made me eggs and showed me his favourite beer.

I think I am starting to love being at home again.

There is a boy who I spoke to for the first time in months

And I think today will be good.

He looks better. And I smile at him again.

We chat about simple things and I know i will buy lemons in Naples.

Chapters can be closed but dogeared with the tenderness of a well loved book.

I have called my mother everyday for the past week.

She listens to my chatter, to the man who takes me on his bike, who doesn’t quite fit and the manager who’s not quite getting my hours right.

The flowers that I buy at the store and what I think I want to do next weekend.

She was even at dinner when I called yesterday.

It’s 6am and I’m alone with my fairy lights and pillows,

But I am warm inside, under my blankets

My existential dread of the day shed at the door

I linger close to the line of sleep until the day creeps in.