It is the essence of you,
none of that stuff around the outside,
just the core that emanates
green like jade or kryptonite,
dazzling, a handsome light
that showcases all the wealth.
All the truths - spit them out,
they'll never taste as good as
a lick of your face,
even that split-second
before freezing on Facetime and
meeting with the sign 'poor connection'
that means waiting
a                whole                minute
or before I can glue my eyes back on to
your skin
I forget, sometimes, how much
I like you
or how I am like you
so
that it feels like this
pining
primal tug
from the bottom of
my belly, that tells me
to tell you
to 'come back
come here', so I can feel it all over again.
I don't have to touch you
just breath in the air you've laughed out
or hear your words spoken softly
or spoken anyway for that matter
first hand
and remember why