I hate the way you taste like winter mornings

I prefer orange blankets  
in winter  
it makes me forget  
how the cold feels  
grey and blue  
and timeless  
between the late mornings
and early nights  
 
I could spend forever  
under these covers  
but the world demands  
that I need more than  
warmth and air  
 
The aftermath of you  
feels the way winter tastes  
when the rain pounds the windows  
in a steady stream of tears  
that gets heavier as the days go by  
 
I woke up with the  
anxious butterflies  
you left in my stomach  
and I wonder how you are  
if you'll listen to the things I said  
that voicemail won't give back to me  
 
Not that I would unsay a single word
though I flip between wondering if  
I should have said more  
if I should have said less  
if I should just let you go  
and let us say nothing at all  
 
I drink coffee  
stare at my phone  
wonder if you'll call  
though I know you well enough  
to know you won't  
 
And I keep telling myself  
it's a hiccup  
not an ending  
 
I can't block you  
and wait for your call at the same time  
but there's nothing much we can say  
except a million sorries  
that somehow always fall short  
regardless of how much  
we feel like home