I wrote you a poem called
days like these, but what I couldn't tell you
is that it's not just days
like those, but every day. Today

could not be more different
from the picture I painted you
with my words. The world is gray, today
and tiny drops of rain

kiss my face, never to be felt
again, not the same rain, not
the same me. Cold air bites
my nose, playfully, as I bump down

the brick sidewalks on my bicycle, eyes only
on the road in front of me, my mind
only on you. I cannot describe
your absence in words, only able

to highlight for you the way
my world looks without you, treading lightly
around the hole that is you, poking
at it like with a tongue at the place

a tooth once filled, if only
to convince myself you truly belong there. You
truly belong here, don't think
you don't. Not just the sunny days

need to be shared, to fully belong
to us. Give me one rainy day with you, rather
than two days of glorious sun, I
would take that any day.