I guess I’ll see you again
In two or more years.
Unless you come for Christmas,
I’ll shed many tears.

Dearest cousin, please understand
You were my best friend
While I was missing my other ones.
Why should it end?

The first two lines of a poem comes to mind
When I think about you;
“Miss you, miss you, miss you,
Everything I do.”

So raise a glass to this summer
And all these memories.
And I hope we’ll meet at Christmas
Oh please, please, please.

Sudden jolts amidst an occupied mind
I see you
I feel you
I touch you

I go back to the moments unchained
untamed and fierce
Exhilarated with blood gushing
from uncertainty
Titillated for your every inch

These moments of longing for your existence is a jab to a frail heart

Deep down there is truth in a notion where you are only a temptation

Merely a decoy for delight

For my memory deceives me with depth
but the reality is facile

A clouded echo yet too real and alive
hard to resist
hard to excise

Between what you want and what you need, you always choose to leave me behind.

in english we say i miss you,
like the person you seek comfort from
is nowhere near.
in french they say tu me manques,
like that person
is literally missing
from you.

what i’m trying to say is:
te echo de menos.

you’re not here in my circle of proximity.
you’re too far away to hold close
or kiss,
or even meet for a walk & a talk.

& maybe it’s selfish
or silly
but i find myself  
daydreaming
of you
or how you make me feel

when you embrace me & my being;
talk softly to me & laugh with me;
walk calmly near me
& search for answers in my eyes  

or on my lips.  

we’ll always be friends.
but i think you’ll be that friend
where i feel something more.

safe & calm;
happy & warm;
soft & blissful.

& while i can feel those things
with my friends & family,
it grows differently with you:

a gentle glow of light  
in the depth of my soul,
kindled with every touch;
every word;
every look;
every smile;
every inhale of your cologne.

i hope it never dies out.

i used to question:  
what if it’s just the idea
of you
that i miss
& the short time we spent together
that i relive in my mind?

but i know it’s not just an idea.
because if it was, i would want that  
with anyone who piqued my interest.

but it is listening to music with you
& sipping cider in busy bars with you
& sitting on cold benches conversing with you
& lying breathing with you
& how did it get to this,
when surely you don’t feel the same?

i could see it,  
& maybe you could.
but maybe that terrified you,
or made you think more than you should.

pero que será, será; whatever will be, will be.
the Lord will have his way,
& it’s okay to feel,  
come what may.

so is this simply a nebulous picture
that i once dreamt up on a train?

no, it is you.

i
    m i s s
                  you.