I miss the projectile of sexiness that emits
with your speech.
I miss the smile that seems
mixed with life in itself; just like your blood is, speaking of which;
I miss the shy blush in your astute composture,
it leaves me wondering how could she be so pure.
I miss the splendid rear view;
Where adipose seems to fight for rescue.
But the elasticity of skin
manages to keep it in.
I miss the organs beneath your brows that enable you see.
Bless them; as they contribute to your appreciation of the nothingness in me.
I miss the warmth of your skin & its smoothness;
I miss your slow motion like gentleness,
I miss that scarce prudence;
same ilk as an air bubble in a large body of water.
I miss your application of sweetness; an abstract knife that cuts through me like butter.
It is you that I miss.