I don’t know how
to be someone you miss
as much as football season,
or holiday drinks at Starbucks,
the kiss of a new year,
a hand held on Valentine’s day,
a free slurpee on July 11th,
the smell of the ocean,
the stroke of a snowflake,
the taste of a new book
devoured by your fingertips.
I watch you grieve
the loss of all these things
from afar and I wish
that I could console you,
that I could tell you
these moments will come again,
but being missed
is not my area of expertise
and you know that
better than anyone.
