My lover, he leaves me wanting

There is something about the evening sun that captures me.

I love the way the evening sun bathes my bedroom in orange and yellow hues as he streams in through the window. I love the way the evening sun throws shadows of the flowers on my window ledge upon the lifeless wall, bringing instant life when the winds blow softly. And surely I love the way the evening sun caresses me with such light warmth, ever so gently, lulling me into a drug-induced slumber.

And like an illicit lover, my cries for him to stay just a little while longer fall on deaf ears. All too soon, he slips out of my room as quietly as he entered, leaving in his wake darkness and cold. I pull the sheets closer around me, and shiver.