And when she wakes up

In the morning
She will want to talk,
Always
To recount her dreams
To plan her day
To be asked if her silence
Is from nightnares
To have her dreamy eyes acknowledged
Her wandering hands rested
Her tremble comforted
And she will want, most of all
To hear from him

Sometimes
She is met with the same enthusiasm

Sometimes, with an indifference
That she will work hard to overlook
While seeming nonchalant about it
(Because he cannot know that she cares)

And sometimes,
She is met with a mobile phone
And she is still
Trying to learnt the etiquette of
Whether it's ok
To take it away and demand attention
Whether she should ask to be a part of it
Or whether she should go about her day
As if nothing unusual happened