I miss the old days.
Me and you against the world.

He reminded me of a song;
No words but pure symphonies — 
Only the strumming and plucking
Of the strings of the guitar.

Tragically and harmoniously beautiful,
He was the solace of my melancholy — 
Every part of his angelic wholeness
Filled with wonder and all things lovely.

He fitted perfectly, in my empty spaces,
Lyrics unsung and words unspoken.
And with every breath he exhaled,
He filled my heart to its brim.

If I was a bird  or at least something with wings..
Perhaps I could fly...and fly..