I miss

The air in your lungs
when you breathed out sighs
of alphabets that came out
as vowels of my initials.
I'd like to take you swimming
one day,
because the sighs will turn
into gasps underwater
but from you
it will still sound as beautiful.

I remember

The veins tangling up
beneath the crescent of your eyes
You had never noticed
the way they lit up like glowing moths
trapped inside a mason jar
when you reached out for words
but flowers bloomed instead.
Just like what Earth would do
when she had enough merriment.

But you never notice anything.