She missed him
in her bed

missed the smell of him
the indentation

in the pillow
where his head lay

the silly
romantic things

he used to say
the kisses

on her body
every place

ending
on her face

but it wasn't
just the kisses

or the *** she missed
or the way

he fired her up
on entering her

the way
he did each time

no
she missed of all things

the deep joy
he brought

the kind
that only

happiness brings
she turned over

and gazed at the pillow
where his head

once lay
the missing indentation

the dark hair or two
the sight of him

smiling back
after having ***

another time
(he was never slack)

she felt
his absence

more so then
no ghostly smiles

or gazes
just the white

dumb pillow
laying there

smooth and silent
like a sleeping sheep

she ran her finger
along the bed

where once
his body lay

that is where
his **** would be

and there
is where

we made love
that last day

before his death
took him away

she sighed
the echo of it

filling the room
spreading out

each bit of space
sometimes

she thinks
he's still kissing her

first her body
then her face.