I miss the way you'd tell me
goodnight
and how you'd text me in the
morning.
When I look at you,
I can see the little
innocent boy.
I can tell by your face.
Even though your jaw has strengthened,
the way it is defined by a hard line;
even though stubble grows on your face.
I see the way your fingers twitch
when you're nervous.
I see the way your eyes wander and space off for a few seconds.
I can tell you're tired by the look in your eyes.
The way your hair becomes volumized when you hold it back with your hand
as you read something.
I see the way your jaw clenches when you're upset.
The way your body relaxes in a chair.
I see the way your shoulders hunch over
after you roll them.
I hear the way your voice rumbles through your chest.
I see the way your eyes search for my face through the windshield of my Jeep
as I pull in behind you.
I see the way your stare lingers,
our eyes seeking meaning
and answers.
I miss our memories together but mainly
I miss the way you'd tell me goodnight
and
text me in the morning.