I only miss you in the morning

You make me feel like a Sunday Morning.

Maybe it's the way you fail to love me.

The way you never desire me till dusk.

Or your constant yearn for others.

 You fail to love me. But I will always love you.

 I dream of a love as sweet as a Sunday Morning.

Where your arrogance softens, masculinity drawn.

In my longing, I find desire in your neglect, Using passion as a balm, stress to deflect.

You will never be a Sunday Morning but I will always wish you were.