There are many things I miss.
For instance,
I miss being four years old,
and eating tomatoes out of the Earth.
I miss my black cat Spooky,
he was blacker than the night itself,
but he died.
I miss my old house,
the creaky floors and long hallways.
But never have I felt such a deep longing for anything other than simply,
you.
I miss your eyes,
staring deep into my soul,
with love,
and sometimes killing me with anger.
I miss your lips,
puckered so tightly to mine,
never letting go,
and sometimes screaming vulgarity at me.
I miss your fingers,
how they caressed and nurtured my body,
and sometimes clenched in a fist,
swung towards me.
I miss laying in bed with you,
after tucking you in and as I watch you fall asleep,
sometimes with the television still loud.
I miss waking up with you,
rolling over to be met with your smile,
your eyes,
your hand in mine,
sometimes we're still tangled together from the passion.
I miss driving with you,
your ignorant but sweetened attempts to distract me,
and sometimes your yells of misdirection.
I miss vacation with you,
walking down to the edge of the water,
discussing dreams for the future,
and sometimes staying in all day.
I miss your mood swings,
exuberance brighter than the hottest of suns,
depression darker than the trenches hell,
and sometimes anger beyond our control.
I miss twirling our toes together.
I miss being the dumb one.
I miss you as the smart one.
I miss the love we once shared together,
the most intense of rushes,
most beautiful of wonders,
and sometimes the ugly duckling,
only waiting to beautify.
I miss the dazzling extremes of you and I.
But most of all,
out of all the things I could miss,
your fingers,
your toes,
your touch,
I miss the illusion of us,
the security of our hearts combined,
constantly reminding us we're together,
and sometimes deceiving the head into believing the heart.