You say you miss my everything
“I crave you when I’m gone”,
You say you can’t articulate
I seek to prove you wrong

I find the book of poetry
You lent me at the start,
When ‘we’ had been a fantasy,
Before you stole my heart

This time I would read slowly
I’d savor every line,
And taste them on my fingertips
They aged just like fine wine

I am your rose and you, my sun
My light, my fire, my highs
Without you I wither,
And, with you, I rise