I miss your long hair
wrapped around my fingers
brown hues
against dimly lit
backdrop,
white cat hair
sticking to black
denim
I miss your long kisses
before departing
swiftly
at the door
as the cruel world beckoned
me
to leave you
breathless
torrid heart
caught in my throat
your sleepy smile
softly
sinking into
my being
your milky
skin
glistening
in the afternoon
breeze
of sunlit promises
I miss you
when
no one
is looking
when you would
look at me
and thought I wasn’t
aware
of being caught
unaware,
of whispering
your name into
the palm of my hand
to feel
the sound
the vibration
and veracity
of your existence
made real through
exhaled breath
this is not a poem
this is a statement of truth
like love
making
itself
known
beneath
night summer
skies
stars unrest
in my mind
blinking
steadily
watching
us become
one
this is not a poem
this is a statement
of
truth
and the truth
will set
free
those butterflies
frozen in mid-flight
to flutter
on the edges
of this non-poem
on the edges
of
these
written words
scribed in squalor of
defeat
overwhelmed
in emerald winged
revulsion
feigning a fury
to raze
the vault of heaven
of isolated sincerity
as her lips
parted with
the breath of
love
this is not a poem
this
is a
statement
of truth
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