Sometimes I get to talk to you,
to listen to your voice and see your face.
but not to touch

I don't mind, not too much.

It's when you have to say goodbye,
when the last 'I love you' rings in my ears,
when I feel the grief

It steals my new found joy like a nimble thief

I hadn't even noticed it was gone,
but in one swift moment the emptiness crushes me
and I just feel.....wrong