morning slipped on a raindrop

I miss the curious curve of your lips
and your palm tree stance,
the salt-shaker starlight nights
and discovering my name
on your sleep-breath.

I miss your hand protecting mine
and how our fingers
as a secret passed in a seeking crowd.

I miss vanilla candles on a rainy night
front porch dinner for only two
and how the shore rocks served
as a closet beside a mattress
of white sand and sea salt.

I miss your soothing baritone
singing answers to questions
that I never thought to ask
and crooning questions
without answers.

And I miss you.


4 thoughts on “morning slipped on a raindrop

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