I miss you the way the sun misses the sky,
The way the moon misses the tides.

I miss you the way roots miss the ground,
The way those lost miss being found.

I miss you the way a wolf misses it's pack,
The way a performer misses the act.

I miss you the way birds miss flight,
The way a blind synesthete misses sight.

I miss you the way lungs miss air,
The way one's heart misses care.

I miss you the way bees miss plants,
I'd tell you all the ways I miss you,
But I can't.

I long for your hands
In mine to hold,
And I long for your heart beside mine,
As we grow old.

And while fourteen days,
Is all that stands between us--
I know that this love, this life,
Will be more than I've ever dreamed of.