I miss you and Im furious at the way distance reveals nuances
like the deafening stop at the end of your sentences when you're mad
that you'd forget when the curving of your lips changed your pitch
to a *** boiling over from cooking up too many exciting things
and you'd pick the finest pens, sharpened just so to express your wit
across any surface that would allow it
i miss you and im afraid to say it
because im not ready yet to miss
the movement of your steps