Epistle #3

When you miss me, 

It’s a cloudy day. 
You can hear the rain dancing on the roof, 
And outside
It’s cold and uncomfortable.
You miss the way I listened,
To everything you had to say 
On the edge of my seat- 
How you could tell me anything, 
The way you felt safe. 
When I miss you 
It’s a hurricane, 
And the winds crush me beneath
The weight of everything I feel. 
My body aches 
As I yearn to breathe again.
I miss the rush I felt when you looked at me, 
I miss knowing, or thinking, that you wanted me too, 
I miss your head against my shoulder, 
I miss your touch on my hand. 
I miss how everything you touched turned beautiful. 


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