I miss you, unknown. I miss you fiercely and wholeheartedly.
I miss the idea of you, the concept of your soft curls against my cheek, my face tucked into your neck.
I am the longing bull, huffing and grunting impatiently with ardent eyes, mouth full of fervor for your crimson presence.
I am the sailing boat, the fisherman, humming with quiet and unmoving anticipation for the melody of your song to ring through space.
I miss you. I miss you in my fingertips and in my brain. I miss you in my knees and in the depth of my ***** and in my ritual I roam through sunny days looking for your cool hands and on the cold days I freeze on the inside and I do not speak.
I miss everything I don't know about you. I miss everything I thought I knew about you and I miss not knowing and wanting to know.
at times the guilt of it all churns my stomach, to know that letting go of you may burn me on my soft edges but might keep whole. the sting of the brutal realisation that your light is not mine to melt my wings for.
still time after time I simply miss you. I miss the idea of you. I miss you, unknown.