Questioning

On the tip of the toe, I feel you

Breathing in another day.

Just the look gave you away.

The tone of your voice,

A silky silhouette, and madras.

You say I am comfy like bed in the mornings

But I feel all rusty and heavy.

All I do is question you.

The eyes, the smell, the smile.

Everything is so similar and mine.

Like rose-pink dawn.