The taste of you in the back of my throat at 3 in the morning
It's been months but I can still feel the heaviness of your fingers
Your voice is a melody that I reply in my head until I feel sick
I miss the right side of the bed
I miss the long conversations about the universe
I miss the brightness in your eyes when you'd see a car you liked
I even miss your loud laugh in the middle of the movie theater
But it's 3 in the morning
And you lay in your bed thinking of her
-C.M.