i miss you like a thunderstorm
raging over an empty sea.
i miss you like morning dew
hiding in the shade of flower petals.
i miss you like old photographs
stored in dusty boxes
in forgotten corners of the attic.

i miss you like twilight
skipping quickly from dusk to evening.
i miss you like the swig of coffee
lingering, unloved, at the bottom of the mug.
i miss you like family movies,
glitchy home-videos Mom takes out
to soothe the passing tides of anxiety.

i miss you like lyrics
to a song i haven’t heard since i was fifteen.
i miss you like lemonade stands
in the midst of Florida summers, hot and sticky.
i miss you like the space suspended
between two seconds, trapped in a gap
to which i return infinitely.