That Was Mine, too

The orange cast of the sun
put out the fire from
when we were one
I sit and stare at 
my tea
rich from the time when
you were with me
The cold table top
didn't feel so cold
when your hand
unthinking reached out
in the morning light
to catch my pinkie
and say
You are mine always
I sip and turn the
page
unaware of how precious
this time was
The pressure of your
touch
That was mine, too