i miss your growing ribcage
pressed against my back.

i miss drowning in your eyes.

i miss your aching presence
knitted into my bones

and i miss your fingers on my skin.

you were my glass half empty, but i could always make it full.

i miss our slow coffee mornings
when we couldn’t separate
our intertwined fingers.

i miss skipping class just to be with one another.

i miss your platinum tones.

you are pine trees (resilient)
you are headlights (warm)
you are dasies (vibrant)

you are home.