Cold sheets

It's cold in my room from the window you left open. To give us air in the heat of our nights. A chill falls along my open skin so I pull the covers but wish that I could lean into the warm sanctuary of your chest. The small joy of your hands along my sides as we sleep. The simple comfort to kiss your skin. Oh, lover, I await you and count that days, the hours, the moments until you return to my bed. Please hurry, the sheets grow cold and the heart grows longing.