I miss feeling you.
Your grip on my thigh,
you caressing my hand,
you biting my skin,
you playing with my hair.
Wiping the grass of me
after trips to the park and
both your hold on my hip and
the bottom of my spine.

I miss hearing you.
The sound of your voice,
your attempts at sarcasm and
the way you’d laugh
when you really find something funny.
How you’d always swear in French
and speak to your Mum in Bulgarian,
the exhale you make when you’re happy
and when you’d sing in the car.
How your voice is barely audible
late at night and early morning.

I miss seeing you.
Seeing you cook,
seeing you drive,
the look of puzzlement
when trying to remember something
or the look of happiness
when you hear a song you love.
Seeing you buzzed and rosy cheeked
after a couple too many drinks.
Seeing you snug in my bed
at the end of the night.

I miss kissing you.
Lazy kisses, limbs tangled
in the early hours of the morning.
Kisses in the back of your car and
rushed kisses when saying goodbye.
Kissing your nose, kissing your neck
and you kissing my neck.
Kissing in the park, kissing in cafes
and kissing in art galleries.
Toothpaste kisses, prickly kisses
and kissing in one another’s beds.

I even miss the things that once annoyed me.
You always correcting my words,
getting frustrated when driving
and when you’d tease my lisp.
How’d you get up to change the song
in the middle of getting it on and
finish every intelligent ramble
with a defeated “I don’t know.”
Your need to check your hair
in anything reflective,
how you’d drink all my water
instead of just buying your own
and pick all the food I didn’t want off my plate.

I miss everything about you
and I hope maybe you miss me too.