I miss

the billowy cotton of you,

I  miss

what I haven’t forgotten of you,

I miss

the willowy half-life of you,

and dismiss

the way that you seemingly threw

your life

into holes that I can’t crawl into.

I insist

that you wait for me out in the blue,

because I miss -

oh darling I miss,

I miss you,

and I wish

that we’d both gone and got that tattoo,

(before you made up your mind you were through)

and I wish

we could sit down at dinner for two,

(and I swear I won’t order for you)

and I could kiss

I could kiss

only you,

before your billowy cotton

turns blue.