I miss feeling his heartbeat.
It was always so loud
And comforting.
I miss falling asleep on his chest
I miss crying in his arms
Crying is so lonely
Without him here to hold me
I miss holding his hand
I miss kissing him
I miss the way he would
Run his tongue along my lips
Playfully, jokingly
I miss the way he made me laugh
I miss his smile
His gorgeous smile
I miss watching him
As he walked beside me, holding my hand
Not a care in the world
I miss the way he laughed at me
Whenever I said something silly
With his eyebrows raised
And his crooked smile
I miss the way he would tickle me
I miss how he would promise things
And always follow through
I miss the way he would answer
The questions in the songs on the radio
I miss his silence
As he let me sing every song on the radio
I miss hugging him
I miss feeling his arms around me
In his tye-dye shirts
I miss him.
So much.

Who knew one expression could make your heart melt.
With one **** of the lips everything changes.
That sweet, soft mouth, becoming perfect,
each one is different, but only one blows you away.

This one movement makes everything seem perfect,
and makes the sun shine brighter.
Everything is so much better with this expression.
Everyone is better too.

A smile changes your face,
but the smile changes your life.
The smile with the crooked teeth,
and the lips barely covering their surface.

We’ve all got that smile within us,
it’s just trying to come through.
It becomes breathtaking,
the light of love, can’t help but shine through.

The moment you have this smile,
you become this perfect everything.
You make the sun shine brighter,
and most importantly you make their heart flutter.

Today
I thought of you
but didn't remember how your face looks
I used to know each crevice and dip in your body
like the back of my hand
the scent of your skin
the warmth of your touch
your voice
they're starting to fade
I'm starting to forget
I'm sorry

you are sharp as glass and predictable
as the hands of a clock; I know when
you are coming before you appear. you leave
a trail of broken memories after you: a silver
stain of all the tears you've stolen from me, all
the women that fell subject to your tyrannical
love, but I am not like all of them before me.
I will not regret what we had; only what
we've become. and I won't miss your singing
or guitar playing or demanding insistence to do
things your way; I'm no longer a *******, love.

Incidentally,
you are supposed to go back
to those damp fog blue memories.
Sure, the special cologne hours
still somehow linger
in certain Spring lilac breezes.
You must refuse them.
Of course, often in snarling traffic tangles
the radio waves carry a song
to reclaim a date, a special day or moment.
You must avoid it. Please.
If a pair of gentle hands should hold you,
just so you know,
no matter what - don’t squeeze back.
Beware that crazy butterfly mercury magic.
It’s gone.
And if you ever return -
I’ll be waiting.

Dear love, I fear I am missing your light.
For your sweet hand keeps slipping out of mine.

We lay below the spotted sky
One last time, before goodbye.
My fingers tousled tired hair;
While you slumbered, worn with care.

A voice I loved, humming a tune.
Sweetest sleep, arrived too soon.
The pigeons watched, watched by crows.
What they wondered, whos to know.

A falling sun, a stolen kiss,
A smile, a glimpse,
Of pure bliss.