its cold in my bedroom

Its cold here, I cuddle up with a cup of tea and a book of old teachers, long past dead before I could utter a word.  She sleeps at my feet, keeping my legs warm, leaving a fur blanket a top of the duvet cover.  I wear my sweatshirt and pants and wish my cup was still warm.  I wish for many things, some to come, some to dream.  In less than 24 hours I have no more excuses.  The year is gone, I don't remember my goals, my lists, my tears, except two.  The two I shed for a lover.  More than I said I would, but it happened.  I stood in my kitchen and they trickled down, and when I was left without a friend.  People move on, but some remain in the heart.  I think of the quiet pleasant house I used to live in with him.  While I am happy for his move, I remember when he left, packed everything up, and I shed a tear, maybe two or three or four.  At least one for me, at least one for the house.  I know he will soon be two and then three, maybe even four.  It is approaching July faster than I am ready.  July will be warm.