Your Fingertips

Lying in this bed alone,
Waiting for you to come on home.
The room, it rings with silence,
and my heart it aches with violence.

Draped in blankets galore
I wish to hear your soft snore.
I close my eyes and see your face,
Longing for your warm embrace.

I think about your lips,
and imagine the feel of your fingertips.
I wonder how much time has spent,
when I realize my pillow carries your scent.

I miss being wrapped in your cocoon, 
although I know i'll see you soon.