I can feel you in my fingers,
my muscles remember having you
in my arms.
I live on little miracles,
like when we think of each other
at the same time.
My rumbling mind mulls over
every sign until I shush it
with a sigh.
I rub my tired eyes and tell myself,
        "Go to sleep!"
I listen half the time,
half the time I eat.
While I rummage through the kitchen
I imagine you singing
in the living room,
your velvet voice
laying soft on my heart.