The morning is still with the exception of the fan blowing on my feet and the sound of sheets rustling as I toss and turn underneath them. Wondering if anyone is awake at 5am thinking of me. Somehow, I doubt it. Nothing. That is my attire of choice.  I lie awake feeling my own warmth between the sheets thinking someone, somewhere, is cold and I have both heat and heart to spare but maybe everyone feels fine.  No chills.  No need for an embrace. They are self sufficient or someone else occupies the position of temp regulator. I still lie awake wondering.

I remember a scent and hundreds of memories show up like unexpected friends that you love seeing but can no longer accommodate. My place is smaller now. My heart is smaller.  My storage capacity for new memories has reached its limits.