Standing three feet away from me
   on a crowded Barcelona street
   you studied the map,
         oblivious to me studying your face.
     Your pink cheeks, the straight bridge of your nose, the corners of your mouth, your  
     perfect left ear that brings my eyes to the ***** of your soft neck.
I longed for you on that street—missed you, urged for you
I missed you as if you were 3,000 miles away,
           a face on a screen, a voice through the phone, words on a page,
the urge is the same as you stand merely inches from my body,
close enough to smell
your scent wafting towards me mixed with the crisp Spanish breeze.
   I lean in closer as your gaze catches mine
   you smile slightly and reach for my hand
   I clutch it and squeeze tightly as your scent and the breeze tickle my arms and my chest.
my mind gets cloudy as we run past hundreds of different people
                 or maybe the street was empty,
         I don’t remember that day
         but I know that I missed you as you stood three feet away.