top 5 things I miss about you:

1) the sunburn on the back of your legs
    the
    way you flinched at the touch of aloe;
    peeling off your skin
    layer by layer

2) dancing high in your room to Pulp Fiction;
     trying desperately not to wake your parents,
     standing in your
     driveway as minutes feel like hours

3) our horrific inability to take
    a single good photobooth picture

4) driving
    driving home from the beach,
    sand
    coating your mats
    sitting in cars writing poems,
    while you wrench tires underneath me
    pulling into parking garages to photograph
    torn stockings against the car’s blue
    exterior
    your hand on my thigh driving back from Ludlow,
    as I am fast asleep
    breaking your backseat as I ****** myself into you
    you naming it after me

5) your drunken texts;
    your colloquial musings at 3 a.m.
    your
    professions,
    your proclamations
    waking up your grounded words,
    despite your swaying body.
  
    I long for your surprise pronouncements
    while I sleep alone 551 kilometers away.