I miss you most in the early morning,
When the sun graces my cold empty bed.
Without a prayer of tidings and warning,
I sit alone to break my daily bread.

I miss you most in the hot afternoon
When I drink my tea your way, strong and black;
I used to drain the tea leaves "much too soon",
Though I prefer sweet, I cannot go back.

I miss you most in the sensuous night
When I have been, will be, alone all day.
No lips bid me morrow, nor arms hold tight,
And through this love, I am your dying prey.

In sleep you are kind; cruel, in waking:
Return my heart, never meant for taking.