I can't remember the last time I slept naked.

I can't remember the last time I slept naked.

With warm sheets and soft blankets, wrapping me in a womb, while the fan blows in my face.

I can't remember the last time I slept naked.

With him holding me like a child clinging to a teddy bear never wanting to grow up-

forgetting the magic of imagination.

Waking up to the smell of fresh ground coffee and bacon on the stove,

bringing me back to cold winter morning in a place that I can no longer visit.

I am not able to rewrite my memories.

I am a typewriter, bulky and outdated-

Loud and challenging,

lacking the ability to edit my past.