I want a world where, if I miss you hard enough, you will appear,
blasting your music,
singing your songs,
and smiling that contagious,
In this world of mine, there's always tea
enough for two.
grim days of winter pass
unnoticed outside my street-facing windows.
Each melting, fogging drop of sleet
hangs untouched until the dry,
bitter air wears it away.
Sometimes, in the stillness of a down moment,
I feel again that ragged,
where you should be sitting,
curled up in a warm blanket,
laughing quietly to yourself over
some comment made
I miss you hard in that moment.
But I guess not enough.