I'll miss the days when we weren't
supposed to ...

Airing out most inner thoughts
in a can left for an ashtray.

Nuance on a string
bringing out the sun gleam on
your necklace.

When words are too much
and the moon splits the sea
spilling light all over me.

Digging at the core:
"The Skin that Wore its Welcome."

"Does it make you feel small?"
"Well, I always feel small."
Pebble tumbling over the cliff rocks
praying for the tide to wash me away.

I will miss you.
I will miss you.